What Brings Them Together
by TempeJill
Summary: Sequel to What She's Been Through. The story continues, and B&B must struggle with how they see the future and what the past still holds on them, as well as what might very well try to get between them... and destroy all that they love. ON HOLD.
1. Chapter 1

**Here it is; the start of the sequel to my story What She's Been Through. :) If you haven't read that... then I would suggest doing so before reading this. Otherwise you'll just be lost and not really able to enjoy this fully. **

**The customary disclaimer: I wish I wrote for Bones, but I don't, and even if I did that still wouldn't make them mine. So it's doubly depressing. **

**I hope you enjoy this, and sorry it's shorter than my usual chapters. I wanted to get it up at the same time as the final chapter of the first story :)**

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The dance floor barely seemed to touch their feet as they turned and swirled in perfect movement to the music. She smiled at him as he spun her and then pulled her back close to him. Her long golden dress swung around her body effortlessly, never getting tangled in her legs even though she'd been apprehensively expecting it to.

It was nice to be dancing again, she thought, and it reminded her so much of that wonderful evening. Once again, just like that time, the reason for this was Angela. It always was, after all, she mused. She turned her head as they twirled through the crowd, searching for the face of her best friend.

She caught sight of her close to the center of the floor, she looked beautiful, with her white dress swirling as a very handsome Hodgins spun her. Both seemed so lost in each other that they didn't seem to notice anything else. She supposed that was how she and Booth must have looked that last time, at that restaurant. Maybe even a bit so right now.

It was so nice to see her two friends together like this at last, having _finally_ managed to complete a wedding service.

Angela's intuition was not to be reckoned with; she'd been completely right about Hodgins proposing to her, and he hadn't taken his time either. Angela had told her all the details of the nice evening they had spent together only two weeks after that double-date at another nice restaurant, albeit smaller and more cozy, which had ended in his question. She'd said yes before he'd even finished asking, and Temperance knew that they were both beyond happy with how things had ended. They'd both been miserable, despite how hard they'd tried to ignore it, when they'd been separated.

The wedding had been planned this time, rather than rushed straight to. Temperance was pretty sure this was because they wanted this one to be as different as possible from the last one... probably to make it so that they could remember this one, and its success, far better than the last one, and its failure.

It had been a bit of a challenge for her, she admitted, with all the things that, as the maid of honor, she was expected to do and help with. She knew nothing about planning a wedding, so Angela had done almost all of it, and enjoyed it thoroughly, with her simply tagging along and giving advice which was almost always completely unhelpful.

Nonetheless, though, Angela seemed to have had great pleasure in selecting her own dishware and her own hors-d'oeuvres without her help. It seemed she only wanted her there as company and someone to talk to about all of it. Well, she'd been fine with that, even if she had still thought she'd been letting her friend down a bit.

Booth had been Hodgins' choice for best man, also as Ange had predicted, and he'd apparently planned an excellent bachelor party which she knew he was very proud of. He'd had a good time, and so had Hodgins, that she knew, but she didn't press for details. Apparently the purpose was that it was something you _weren't_ supposed to be told about. A night of freedom or something like that. Booth had assured her, however, that he had behaved himself.

"So are they still going to the same place for their honeymoon?" she asked him.

"Yeah," Booth answered with a nod. "I think it's the one thing they kept the same actually," he added.

She laughed. "Well, it's not like they needed to reuse the decorations or dresses... Hodgins could easily afford all new ones."

"Good point. And I have to say, the bridesmaid dresses really are stunning," he added, resting his forehead up against hers.

"You said you liked them last time," she reminded him.

"Doesn't mean I can't like these more," he said, his voice slightly teasing.

"Cam looks nice, too," she commented as they caught sight of their other friend who was dancing, rather uncomfortably, with Angela's father, and didn't seem to know how to escape from her predicament.

He glanced in the direction she was looking and nodded, but his eyes went right back to her. "Not as beautiful as you do," he murmured in her ear, pulling her into another spin.

She laughed as she spun around and came back to him, letting him carry her around the dance floor lightly.

They caught sight next of Sweets and Daisy, who weren't the most elegant dancers but who seemed to be enjoying themselves.

"How long have those two been going out?" Booth asked, shaking his head slightly in disbelief.

She had to admit, she had not seen it as likely that those two would be able to stay together for long at all, and yet it had been around six months and they still seemed to care very much for each other.

"If we get invited to their wedding, what do you want to bet she'll beg you to be her maid of honor?" he teased.

She groaned, remembering how persistent Daisy had been with her near-worship tendencies in the lab. "And if Sweets asks you to be his best man?" she countered, grinning as she saw him wince. "You couldn't really tell him no; we work with him constantly and _I_ think he really looks up to you, whereas Daisy no longer works in correlation with the Jeffersonian and I have no obligation to say yes when she probably knows other woman who would be far better suited."

"Now that wasn't nice, Bones," he said, but his eyes betrayed him. She could see the amusement sparkling in their depths.

"What about this, then?" she asked, pressing her lips to his before he could say anything else.

He smiled at her. "Very nice. Thanks, Tempe," he murmured, kissing her again.

She pulled away, giving him a hard look, "Booth, don't call me Tempe," she said firmly.

He laughed, "Come on, Bones, you said I could before, you can't just go changing your mind on me..."

"I'm Bones," she replied, leaving no room for argument. "I just... I don't want anything replacing that. And I'm free to change my mind if I want to, so there."

He chuckled, presumably at her use of 'so there,' and then pulled her back into the dance since they'd come to a standstill and almost been collided with by Nigel-Murray and his girlfriend.

She offered her grad-student a small smile, and he grinned back before turning his attention back to the girl. She didn't blame him. The young man was so very factual and dedicated to his work that him being in a relationship must be something he wanted to hold onto desperately. She'd heard the way he'd been talking about her to Ange at the lab; it seemed like he really liked this girl.

The other interns were here as well, since they were friends of Ange and Hodgins now, but she hadn't seen much of any of them. They were mostly polite when she'd first greeted them before the wedding had begun, but she knew they were disappointed that she'd selected Nigel-Murray instead of them, Wendell in particular. It hadn't been an easy choice, by any means, but she thought she had made the right one in the end.

While Nigel-Murray tended to get lost in his facts, he was still very precise, and he fit in well, the result of which being that he was quickly improving and getting better at dealing with only the facts they needed. That didn't mean he wasn't a constant pool of trivia whenever they weren't incredibly busy with something important, though.

Wendell had been the other logical choice, since Fisher was... well, depressing, to be honest, and not something she needed on a day to day basis to have to listen to. Good worker... bad conversation. Wendell, however, was also a good worker. His downfall was his tendency to not understand the rules. Booth had been relentless in teasing her about that when they'd been struggling over the decision and she'd continuously came back to that point. He'd said that she wasn't one to talk, seeing as she had ignored many rules and normal protocol so she could go out in the field and have a gun.

It all came down to who she felt she could trust to be there everyday and provide the best output of skills. None of them were exactly the fit to fill the hole left by Zach, because that would be impossible, but Nigel-Murray... he was as close as it got. And she found she had a soft spot for his consistency in fact giving. Zach had done that on occasion to... gone off on very fast-paced analysis or talked out loud needlessly while he did something on the computer.

Fisher and Wendell would, however, be able to get excellent positions elsewhere. She'd even offered them the opportunity to return to the Jeffersonian if, after they received their doctorates, there was a need for more hands in the lab.

Hodgins and Nigel-Murray got along well, in addition. That was another key point that she'd been looking for; she wanted someone who would be able to befriend the entomologist and maybe help him as he continued to heal from losing his best friend. Having Angela back was definitely helping him, but having someone with whom to do his sometimes unorthodox experiments with had clearly improved his mood immensely. Just last week she'd peered into the back of the laboratory to find the two of them attacking cantaloupes and laughing excitedly while juice went everywhere. While she was certain that whatever data they were trying to gather could certainly be gained in a different, and much cleaner, method, she hadn't interrupted them. Let them have their fun when it didn't involve explosions, she figured. And as long as all that sticky juice got cleaned up when they were finished.

"Nigel looks happy," Booth commented as they passed by him and his girlfriend once more. She nodded, not bothering to correct him this time. He'd decided that he was going to call the grad-student Nigel, and he was immovable on that fact. He claimed that Nigel-Murray was just getting ridiculous to say all the time, and unless she'd rather him say 'hey grad-student' every time he wanted to get the young man's attention, then she would have to deal with it.

Nigel-Murray hadn't really known how to react to it, but he wasn't telling Booth to stop, and that was all the encouragement the agent seemed to need.

"You gunna be ready to get back to murder tomorrow?" he asked her. "You know, without them?"

She sighed, "Yeah, I will be." The lab was going to be incredibly empty without the presence of her other two close friends; but with Booth, Cam, and Nigel-Murray there they'd be able to still work on the most recent case... which had admittedly not been getting the quality attention it deserved while everyone had been so busy getting ready for the wedding.

"They're only going to be gone for what... two weeks I think?"

"Hodgins kept the whole thing secret from Ange, so I'm as clueless as she is," she informed him.

"Oh. Right," he said, frowning. "But don't worry, they'll be back before you know it."

"I know."

Time did seem to be flying by for her, she realized. Had it really been three months since... well... she'd started going out with Booth?

Today was August seventeenth; she knew the date so well because it had been pressed into her head more than enough times over the past few months during the preparations. Everything was leading up to the seventeenth, as Ange had put it, and the week before today had been chaos making sure everything was going to be perfect for this one event.

For Hodgins' sake, she hoped he remembered August seventeenth as well as she did. Because he was the one who was supposed to forget it, according to Booth. Something about husbands being unable to recall their anniversary and it being the number one cause of major fights. She hadn't understood a good portion of that conversation, since it made no sense why the recollection of a few numbers would be the difference between happiness and a bitter argument. Until of course, Booth had informed her two days ago that it was the anniversary of the day he met her. August fifteenth, he'd said, smiling. She'd been amazed that he knew that... and then it had sort of made sense why it was so important, even though she couldn't really explain it logically to anyone. Maybe there was no logical way to tell why it made her suddenly feel so warm and comfortable when he told her he remembered the day they met. It just... did.

But she didn't need to think about that now, she told herself. She just smiled and let herself be led around the dance floor, focusing her thoughts only on how dancing with Booth seemed to be one of the few things that could erase all of her worries.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for the slow update. My free time died. But I will work to get atleast one chapter of this up per week. Starting a fresh story, even if it is a sequel, is somehow much more challenging (and much more prone to writer's block) then writing chapters really far into one. **

**Anyways, you don't care about any of that. Here's the next chapter. Hope you enjoy :)**

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"Hey!" a friendly voice called. She glanced up from the skeleton on the table in front of her to see Cam coming up the steps to the lab platform. "Thought you could use some company," she commented, her eyebrows raised as her gaze swept over the nearly deserted work area. Just a few squints could be seen doing various tasks, none of them anywhere really near her work station. Essentially she'd been alone except for the middle-aged Caucasian woman's body.

She smiled and nodded, "Thanks. It feels... sort of empty around here."

"I know... without those two it's almost like all the life's been sucked out of here, isn't it?"

She nodded grimly in response. "Exactly."

The skull that she was holding just above the surface of the table while she spoke seemed to mock them both. Death was their only company here, wasn't it? She couldn't remember a time when she'd come to work and Angela hadn't been there... save for those rare vacations she'd taken to the desert, and even then Ange had maintained a constant connection via email and webcam. Now... well she was far away on her honeymoon with Hodgins, and despite how much her bubbly and enthusiastic personality was missed by her and apparently by Cam as well, she was glad her best friend was enjoying herself. Hodgins too. They were both truly good friends, given how much they cared about her and how much she trusted them. The last few months would have been terrifying without them around, that was certain.

She'd tried not to consider it as a possibility, but it did seem fairly likely that Ange had made sure the wedding landed months ahead was more than just because she'd wanted it to be well-planned and different from the first one. From her actions and the way she'd talked, too, it had seemed that maybe she wanted to make sure that she'd be _okay_ when they were gone. With Booth always shadowing her around though, it wasn't like it was a huge deal.

"Where's Booth?" Cam asked conversationally. "I know Nigel is supervising over in limbo with the newer students who're getting a head start on their lessons and on no doubt attempting to impress you... but he's never... far away." Cam had taken to calling the grad-student by his shortened name very quickly once Booth had gotten started. Apparently she wasn't fond of using the entire title to address him either.

"He's over at the FBI building," she answered the question with a slight sigh. She hit herself mentally for allowing that to escape along with the words. Her and Cam were good friends, yes, but she didn't need to complain about missing his presence to his former girlfriend who was also her boss. And she didn't want to sound incompetent to function on her own either, because that was certainly not true. She was fine without him constantly standing nearby. She just... missed his presence. Maybe more than she liked to admit.

"Don't we have a case?" the other woman asked, sounded confused, and Temperance couldn't really blame her. _She _wasn't even sure why he was needed over there when they should be doing... well, what they normally did. It was a newer case, and they didn't even have any solid evidence gathered yet to get a suspect. What did Cullen need him for?

"I'm sure he'll be here soon," she said, glancing towards the door as she spoke.

"Probably. In the meantime... what do you have so far on this one? Anything for me yet?"

She shook her head to indicate negative on the second question. There weren't any skin tissue or brain matter or anything resembling organs left for the coroner to work with. This was going to be one of those bones only cases, where they'd have to work with only the particulates as extra evidence. Without Hodgins... well that was a bit of a challenge. Apparently they had some fill-in entomologist coming later today to help out. She wasn't looking forward to it. Luckily they weren't sending in a new forensic artist. _That _position they could handle keeping empty for a few weeks until Ange returned.

"This would be a lot easier with Hodgins," she muttered under her breath as she set the skull back down in irritation. There were plenty of particulates which had gathered on the bones, and there were also a good deal of samples collected from both the building she'd been found in and the surrounding marsh land behind it.

"I'll call for Nigel if you like."

"No, it's fine. I would just normally have Hodgins collect the samples he needed from the skeleton before I began my own in depth analysis. I've had to take the samples myself..." she gestured to the slides that were laid out over in Hodgins' area, "But I'd _like_ to defer to him before having Mr. Nigel-Murray clean the bones off completely so we can look for cause of death. It's not blindingly obvious on this one..." She trailed off as she picked up the skull again and turned it over in her hands, searching for any signs she might have missed the first time of trauma or inside staining. She hadn't really realized how much she'd come to trust and rely on Hodgins expertise before now. She might need to be more grateful towards him in the future, she thought with slight amusement. He'd like that way too much, no doubt.

"Well, I don't see any bullets, so you can cross one thing off."

She was about to retort and say that the absence of a bullet did not necessarily mean a gun was not used, as well as that it didn't help since there were any number of ways to kill someone, but when she turned to look at Cam before speaking she saw the look on her boss's face and realized she must have been teasing slightly.

She smiled slightly in understanding and set the skull back down.

"I'll be in my office if you need me," Cam said, sensing that there really wasn't anything else for them to talk about before it got more awkward. At least, that was the reason that Temperance figured she must be leaving for. She simply nodded.

"Sure, Cam."

"One good thing about Hodgins not being here, I suppose," Cam added, turning around once she was already off the platform. "Nothing's exploded yet today."

She found herself chuckling at the comment, shaking her head before turning her attention back to the bones. The sound of Cam's clicking heels faded away and she was left in silence again.

It wasn't long, though, until she heard the distinct sound of the doors sliding open, and she immediately felt her eyes shoot up to see who it was. She let out a sigh of disappointment, seeing that it was her assistant rather than Booth. But she brightened immensely from her previous demeanor as he joined her on the platform and they were finally able to progress further in their work on the skeleton.

"Any news of the temporary entomologist's arrival?" Nigel-Murray asked her as he carefully set down the rib he'd been studying.

"None as of yet... he's supposed to be here _sometime_ today."

"That's not very specific," muttered the grad-student. She laughed slightly at his tone, but felt the bitter sting of it, too. So very much like something Zach would have said... but she nodded her agreement with what he'd pointed out. She was annoyed about that, too. She'd wanted a specific time frame, something that had not been supplied to her. Or to Cam, either, who was more frustrated than herself at that, surely.

The doors slid open again, and this time she outright scowled to see that it wasn't Booth. She almost turned her head back to Nigel-Murray, but suddenly her gaze snapped around back to the doors, her eyes wide.

It wasn't possible_..._

A tall man with a receding hairline was coming towards the platform. Although the hair color was tinted with grey it was still mostly the same dark brown, nearly black. His features hadn't altered much with age; he was still clearly recognizable. The only changes appeared to be a few wrinkle lines and a slight limp in his left leg that hadn't been there before.

"So very nice to see you again, Temperance," he greeted her, sliding his temporary ID card through the scanner and making his way up the rest of the way to the platform.

"Dr. Thomson," she greeted him with a cold tone and a nod, leaving all emotion out of it and off of her face. If anything, she knew she must look intimidating. "And it's Dr. Brennan to you."

He smiled in response. "Haven't changed much, I see..." he noted. "I was requested, seeing as I was giving some lectures nearby, to fill in during a..." he consulted a file folder he was holding, "...leave of absence for a Dr. Hodgins."

She nodded stiffly, suddenly really wishing she had more company then just her grad-student. She greatly disliked the man whom she'd first had to work with when she'd arrived at the Jeffersonian, and Nigel-Murray was anything but helping the intimidation shield she was putting up. He was standing next to her looking rather bewildered.

She forced a smile onto her face as she gestured to him, "Dr. Thomson, this is my assistant, Mr. Nigel-Murray."

The two shook hands, and she could see clear scrutiny from the older man, and then contempt in his eyes as he stepped back. She was going to have a serious word with Cam for this. Or, if her boss truly hadn't realized who was coming and the fact that he'd worked here before, she'd go another step up and get herself in contact with Dr. Goodman.

"I head you've been working with the FBI," he commented, sounding the slightest bit curious.

"Yes," she answered simply, refusing to offer more information so easily to him.

"Field work for someone who's never left this lab since she arrived and forced her command onto those who'd been here far longer, with more experience?"

She ground her teeth together slightly, contemplating whether it was appropriate to break his arm now, or wait until he said something that might be more reasonable to justify such an attack.

"I found good work elsewhere, though, since you clearly aren't going to ask how things went for me since I had to leave."

"You quit, if I remember correctly," she snapped irritably. "Now, I strongly suggest you go over there and start analyzing those samples I've already prepared. We're in the middle of a murder investigation, and I don't particularly care about your entire history."

"No, you wouldn't, would you?" he hissed, taking a step towards her. "You arrogant little-"

"Bones!" another voice interrupted him. Then, in alarm, "Bones?" She didn't look away from her furious glare at the other man as she heard her partner's card slide through the reader and his footsteps pound up the stairs and over to them. He roughly shoved Thomson backwards with both hands. "Is there a _problem_ here?" he snarled in the other man's face, practically pinning him against the desk he was supposed to be working at."

"And you're the FBI Agent, I suppose?" he responded.

"Yeah, I'm the _FBI Agent_. You have a problem with Dr. Brennan, pal? Because if you do, I think you should consider voicing it now, and we'll get this over with."

"There's no problem," he insisted, finally looking a bit ruffled by Booth's angry face pressed into his personal space. He turned to her for confirmation, raising an eyebrow.

"He used to work here," she said stiffly. "We didn't get along." Booth was apparently going to wait for further explanation, so she sighed and finished, "He couldn't take no for an answer. He quit because Goodman threatened to fire him when he failed to get _me_ fired."

"Who let him in here?" Booth asked incredulously, as though shocked by the concept of someone she disliked coming anywhere near her. She sighed, deciding that instead of being comforted by his protectiveness, this was one of those times when she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself.

"He's filling in for Dr. Hodgins until he gets back," Nigel-Murray piped up from where he was still standing off to the side.

"Great," Booth muttered sarcastically. "I'm keeping an eye on you," he warned Thomson, and then stepped away from him and back over to her. "Don't hesitate to call if he gives you trouble," he told her.

She responded with an icy glare, her mood from the untimely arrival of such an annoyance not yet faded and now being transferred instead. "I can take care of myself," she snapped a bit more forcibly than she'd intended.

His eyes widened and he took a step back from her in surprise.

"Hey, easy, Bones. Sorry... are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she hissed, snapping on a fresh pair of rubber gloves and turning her attention back to the skeleton. She spoke to Nigel-Murray as she would if they were the only ones there. Her eagerness to see Booth today had been spoiled, and that only worsened her irritation with how things were going.

She could tell he was giving her a concerned look without even looking up at him. For once, she wanted him to just leave so she could calm down and handle the situation between herself and Thomson professionally. Even if professionally ended up including paying for his hospital bill should she have to break his wrist.

He'd been doing it more and more as of late... threatening anyone who so much as looked at her the wrong way. He'd been careful about doing that before, but as the months had slid past he'd gone back to it again... it was instinct, she supposed, since he was technically her boyfriend and they'd only grown closer as more time passed. Maybe she should have chastised him on it sooner rather than letting it build up, she thought with a sigh.

Finally she looked up, told Nigel-Murray to continue working, and motioned for Booth to follow her to her office.

"Was that necessary?" she asked tiredly once they were inside.

He scratched the back of his head a bit sheepishly. "I don't like guys like him," was his answer.

"I know," she sighed. "But you have to understand that I'm perfectly capable of fighting my own battles. You're support I'll accept, but you taking over and making me look like I need saving... that I just can't... I just can't handle that, Booth."

He winced apologetically. "Sorry, Bones. Really. I'll behave myself in the future. Pinky swear." He watched her for a moment and then smiled wider, "Hey, you actually know that one, don't you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Booth, I know that one."

He grinned widely. "Are we good?" he asked.

"Yeah. You're forgiven," she added on the end with a grin of her own. He beamed back at her.

"Good. Because I wouldn't be able to do this if you were angry with me..." he gently pulled her close to him and kissed her.

She pulled carefully away to address him, and he let her slide easily from his grasp.

"And since when have you cared whether I'm mad at you or not to do that?" she questioned with a raised eyebrow. "Last time I checked, half of our arguments end with you simply kissing me into silence."

"Bickering," he corrected automatically. "And it worked, now didn't it?"

She chuckled. "Fine, yes, it worked. Happy now?"

"Almost," he answered, pulling her in for another kiss.

"I have to get back to work," she said with a sigh as she pulled away again. "Murderers need catching. Speaking of which, what did you have to do at the Hoover building this morning that you kept you away for so long?"

"Something called work," he answered teasingly. "But Cullen wanted me in his office to discuss... things."

"Me."

He sighed and looked away, confirming her assumption.

She nodded to herself before speaking again. "Did he want to talk about my well-being, or about our relationship?"

Booth grated his teeth a bit, keeping his gaze averted, and then finally relented with, "Both."

She nodded again thoughtfully. "What did you tell him?"

"The truth."

"Exactly what did he _ask?"_ she questioned. She had to know.

"He just wanted to check in on you. Make sure you were holding up, okay, Bones?"

She bit her lip at his tone, and then relented. "Okay," she responded quietly.

Booth groaned. "Sorry, Bones, it's just... it just didn't make my morning incredibly enjoyable. Especially since I didn't get to spend it here, with you."

"That's understandable," she answered. His sudden outburst with Thomson suddenly made a lot more sense, since he'd only ever really glared or threatened those who he thought might be upsetting her, never doing so violently up until now.

"Thanks," he murmured. He'd apparently read into her facial expression and figured out that she'd made the connection, because she could see in his eyes and hear in his voice that he was saying thanks for more than just her understanding. Her social perceptions skills were highly attuned to him, and they were even improving immensely for others as well. With his help, of course.

"Back to work," she said, this time more firmly than the first.

"Yup," he answered, and he hurried past her to get the door. She rolled her eyes as he grinned cheekily, and then they both headed back up to the platform.


	3. Chapter 3

**Another chapter! Okay, I'm going to try to update atleast every Sunday, so you can expect the next chapter in a week. (hopefully...)**

**Well, enjoy!**

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He watched her calmly from a short distance away, his gaze occasionally drifting to keep an eye on that creep Thomson. He didn't care if the guy was doing a decent job or not. He didn't care if the guy gave them some miraculous evidence that put the criminal away singlehandedly. He cared that this guy had bothered her in the past, and that he was here again with an apparent dislike towards her.

But, as he'd promised, he was going to behave. He was just going to watch very, very observantly, and act discretely, without her knowledge if necessary, to resolve any issues that might arise.

He could tell that this guy was worried by his presence. Whenever he'd looked up, after all, Booth had been staring at him. Not glaring, not intimidating... just staring calmly. And he knew from experience that that alone could be enough to scare somebody. Good, he thought. This guy was going to learn a lesson, and when Hodgins got back he was never going to show his face anywhere near D.C. ever again.

But he couldn't keep his eyes off of her for long. She'd pulled her hair up into a tight ponytail and she was bent over the evidence table closely studying some aspect of the skeleton. She was facing him, even though her eyes were lowered at the moment, and he smiled softly as he watched the look on her face, filled with such concentration and total focus that he knew she wasn't even aware of anything else but the body before her.

He was fine with that... he knew that where she was right now she was safe and enjoying herself, fully in her element. That was enough to make him happy, knowing that she was content. And while she wasn't focusing at all on anything around her, he decided to simply turn his back on the Thomson creep. No need to bother with him when he most certainly wasn't bothering her. Why waste the energy when it was much more enjoyable for him to keep his eyes on something far more beautiful?

She leaned forward a bit, and her shirt's neck fell down a little, not revealing much since she didn't wear many low necked tops, but dragging his entire attention to the small golden piece that dropped out from under the fabric and hung lose, almost touching the table.

A soft smile spread wide across his features as he realized exactly what it was. She was wearing the necklace... had she always been? Or did she just start recently? He hadn't even noticed it, hadn't even seen it at all since he'd given it to her that night. He grinned wider as he realized that his first assumption was probably accurate. She would do that, wouldn't she? Wear it but not show it off... keep it close but hidden.

He considered pointing it out to her, and teasing her lightly about it to see if, just maybe, she'd blush, but he thought better of it at the moment. She wasn't even in the same universe as him at the moment, and he didn't want to spoil it. Maybe he'd bring it up sometime later when they were at the diner or driving to interrogate some new witness.

His head tilted slightly to the side as his focus slid to other thoughts, his eyes still on her but his mind slightly elsewhere. They hadn't really had any actual dates since being forced by Angela, and he wanted to change that. Sure, there had been plenty of trips to the diner, and late nights doing paperwork with Thai food, but no fancy restaurants, no trips to the movies, nothing like that. He frowned at his own lack of creativity, wondering if she'd want that sort of thing, or if she was happy with how things were going right now. She seemed happy... but she deserved the all-out date experience at some place he couldn't afford. Maybe that would be just the thing for this weekend... they could do something enjoyable Friday night instead of hanging out here at the lab until nine like she liked doing so much.

A grin formed on his lips and he chuckled quietly to himself as he pictured what her face would look like when he told her they were going to go somewhere nice. She probably wouldn't be too ecstatic, knowing her as he did, but she'd probably agree anyways because she was usually up for anything he wanted to do, and he was pretty sure she had learned a lot throughout the years about letting herself just go along. She was more understanding of the concept that she might not look forward to something, but it could still end up being a great evening anyways.

She didn't even look up at the sound from him, which didn't really surprise him. He just shook his head at her oblivious form, still smiling in his amusement.

"Hello Agent Booth," Nigel greeted him in a cheerful voice. Booth got the feeling he wouldn't have said anything at all if he hadn't been in the kid's way. He tilted his head in greeting, then slid to the side so the grad-student could get his tray of cleaning instruments past. Nigel nodded his thanks quickly and then joined Bones over next to the body. She finally pulled herself back to reality as he stopped the tray next to her, and she began instructing him to clean the wounds she'd found.

"Do you have anything yet, Dr. Thomson?" she asked, her tone very near condescending as she turned to stare emotionlessly at the entomologist.

"I'll let you know when I do," he answered levelly, not looking up. Booth was impressed that he kept any hostility out of his voice. The man learned fast, apparently. Bones swung her head back around to focus on Nigel and the cleaning of the skeleton.

"Cause of death, yet, Bones?" he questioned, coming away from the railing to lean over the table, his hands resting on the sides.

She glanced at his hands, and he quickly removed them. "Stabbing," she answered, indicating some markings on the ribs that he could barely even make out. "Cam's going to see if she can figure out how to work the Angelator so we can compare scenarios and possible weapons. If our temporary help gets anything done today, we might be able to narrow it down from the particulates I gathered before we began the cleaning process."

Booth nodded, recalling the short visit Cam had paid the lab area for an update a few minutes ago. So that was why she'd looked none-too-pleased when she'd left. Trying to figure out the complex machine wasn't likely to be an easy task, especially for someone who got as easily frustrated or impatient as he knew Cam could.

His attention slipped back into thoughtfulness, reflecting once more on the past few months and how far things had come, as her own attention headed back to the bones rather than him. He resumed his position against the railing.

She'd come a long way, a _very _long way, given all that she'd had to get through. She was getting stronger with each passing day, though, that much was quite clear. He'd watched the change, and every time he looked back it was harder and harder to imagine her ever being as vulnerable and terrified as she had been in those days following her release from the hospital. He hadn't seen a single tear in her eye in well over a month now, and that fact alone was enough to make him smile like an idiot.

Her smile had improved too, to the point that when she'd look at him over the table at the diner he'd almost forget what they were talking about just because of the glow in her eyes and the wide grin she'd give him, or the way she sounded when she laughed with him. She was still Bones, she always would be, but this... was different from the Bones she'd been before all of this had happened. She'd hardened again, but this time he was fully within the shell, along with all her other friends, and she was keeping them close rather than pushing them away. There were some days when he could tell she was more distant than he'd like, but they worked through them. Some mornings she'd wake up confused or shaking, but it was less and less frequent, and not at all in the week leading up the wedding. He had a feeling she'd been so tired from all the work she'd put in helping Ange that she'd slept more soundly than she had any other time.

Ange and Hodgins... well he knew she missed them, knew that she didn't feel completely at home here without their presence, but with the murder case and himself around he knew they'd get through this hardship too. And no doubt she'd strengthen from this as well, not that she wasn't already fully able to stand on her own two feet and take down anyone who said she couldn't.

But he was still worried about her, despite all that. He couldn't help but feel concerned whenever he left her side... it was just that the thought that it could be the last time he ever saw her was always present. Kenton, the Gravedigger, Jake... or even if he was the one who got kidnapped. He felt as though they'd almost had all their time stolen from them, and that it could so easily happen again...

What if they didn't have all the time in the world to be together? What if something happened, despite all his promises to her that he would never leave her again? He couldn't stop death if it really was coming for him, but the terror of losing her, or of leaving her in pain again, was truly overwhelming.

Mostly he tried not to think about it, but the words he'd said to Sweets all that time ago when he'd told her to wait outside before going back were still reverberating in his mind.

_"Listen, Sweets, what you said before..."_

_"About which part?"_

_"Marriage," he hissed, lowering his tone even further. Sweets grinned like a little kid who'd just said 'I told you so,' and Booth barely refrained from smacking him on the head. "You said that you think, personally, that Bones and I..."_

_Sweets hesitated, but with a glare from Booth he quickly spoke up, "Yes, I'll stand by that, Agent Booth. From what I've observed... well it's a possibility that I don't think would end badly for either of you."_

_"And you think Bones would be able to function in a married relationship?"_

_"She adapts very quickly, and she'd just have to see that nothing really changes, overall. Um... are you planning on... proposing?"_

_"Shh, you idiot!" he hissed, glancing at the door in case she was anywhere near it. Luckily she wasn't, as far as he could see. "And that's none of your business. But thanks. And... uh, you can call me just Booth you know." The whole Agent title thing was getting a little old, even if he did enjoy the show of respect._

_"Really?"_

_"Yeah, but don't let it go to your head; you're still twelve."_

_Sweets snorted a short laugh, and Booth quickly turned with a short wave. He stopped just before leaving, though, and turned back thoughtfully, having one last thing to say. "Oh, and Sweets... tell anyone about this conversation, and you will regret it for the rest of your life." He didn't stay long enough to see what must have been a nervous look upon the young man's face, but instead exited the office, rejoined Bones in the hall, and deflected her questions. No way he was telling her what he'd just discussed with the psychologist._

Of course he wanted to marry her... he couldn't really see his future any other way. He was never going to leave her, and he was certainly not going to lose her without a huge fight to get her back. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He wanted to grow old with her, as the saying went. He smiled to himself as he wondered if she'd ever even heard that before. Probably not...

His attention went to her once again as he considered how she might react to such an idea. She didn't believe in marriage, and she had been far from shy about that fact, constantly attacking the idea of spending a lifetime with one person when it wasn't practical and such. But... she'd changed her mind about monogamy being ridiculous, he was pretty sure, after the whole situation with the deep-sea welder and the botanist. And she did love him; she'd said it enough times by now that he could never doubt it or the truth behind the words whenever she said them. She couldn't possibly think that they'd ever lose each other, except of course in her scientific way of saying nothing lasted forever and death was inevitable and such... but otherwise, she surely thought they wouldn't leave each other willingly.

He might be able to use all of that to his advantage, now that he thought about it. She would probably need a lot of convincing, and he was well aware that he'd need a list of the positives and the reasons why they should get married. She might be perfectly fine with just living together, and see no reason for anything official. He was almost afraid of the logical reasoning she'd use to refute his explanations.

And... sure, she'd be right about them being able to live together and be happy without being married... but he couldn't drop the idea of a wedding and taking her someplace wonderful for a honeymoon, and then that same image from his wishes of so long ago... with the small house away from all the murders, and the picket fence, and the kids playing in the yard...

One thing at a time though. If he was brave enough to suggest both marriage and babies at the same time he might as well be begging her to leave him and run back to the safety of being single and relying only on bones. Not that he thought she'd do that... not really... but the fear was still ever-present in his mind. There was always a slight _chance_ that he might overestimate how much she could handle.

Now wasn't the time, though, to even consider a proposal of any sort. It was still too soon for anything like that, and Ange and Hodgins were only just married, and still on their honeymoon. Despite how amusing Angela's reaction would be if she got back to find them engaged, he shoved the whole concept out of his mind for the time being. A new one took its place, branching off from that idea a bit.

She'd been getting more and more insistent lately that she wasn't being fair to him, that he must have biological urges and that she _should_, as his girlfriend, be able to satisfy them. She was upset, he knew, that he was thoroughly denying all of it. She seemed so determined, though, that she was doing something wrong, and he knew that no matter how much he tried to comfort her against it, she still believed it.

He frowned, the smile he'd still had on his lips vanishing in an instant as his brow furrowed and he continued along that line of thought.

He wasn't going to sleep with her, in the non-literal sense, since they'd technically been sleeping in the same bed for months, until he was _absolutely _certain she could handle it. There was no way he was pressuring her, or giving in to her own concerns, unless it was because _she_ wanted it. And even if she told him she did, he wasn't buying it. She was so easy to read that he could tell the idea still frightened her a bit.

Now if only she'd understand that he could care less about biological stuff when her welfare was in the picture. That she was safe was his number one concern; it always had been, and it always would be. And there was no way he was going to be the one to make her _un_safe.

"I've got something," a voice from behind him announced dully. He turned to look at the fill-in entomologist, who had a hand resting on the side of the microscope he'd apparently just been looking into. "It's the fragments collected from the largest stab wound," he added, addressing his words to Bones.

She nodded and came around to his station. Booth followed her, and stood on the opposite side of the microscope, watching her face as she peered in.

"This was the sample collected from the T6 vertebrae?" she asked, not looking up.

Thomson nodded, then, realizing she couldn't see him, said, "No, from the ribs; the deepest wound." Booth snorted softly to let him show his stupidity had been fully noted. Thomson sent a glare at him, but turned his attention quickly back to her.

She nodded slightly, finally pulling her eyes away from the microscope and straightening up to look at them both, frowning slightly. "That is very... interesting."

"What? What's so interesting?" Booth asked slightly impatiently.

"Did you already look at the particulates gathered from the other stab wounds?" she asked the entomologist as if she hadn't heard him.

"Right before this one. No signs of this in that one."

"What is it?" he repeated, getting her full attention this time. Her eyes met his, concern and a bit of confusion shining in them.

"I'm... not sure. Can you run an analysis on that?" she questioned, her eyes flicking back to Thomson. He nodded and pulled the slide from the microscope. Finally she turned back to Booth. "It appears to be some sort of fabric strands... but they're sort of... wound around the larger fragments of metal and the particulates of dirt that were embedded in the bone. The weapon, probably a knife from what we know so far, forced them into the bone when it stabbed in... but the way they are..."

"What?" he asked once more, getting frustrated with the cliffhangers she was leaving him with.

"I think the bits of fabric came from the _weapon_," she finally answered.

* * *

**Don't expect a whole lot of casework; sorry if anyone really enjoys that aspect. I'm just not very good with all the coming up with murder scenarios and evidence and such. So, what do you think of the idea of them getting married eventually? I think Booth has very good reasoning for it, but then again... I wrote his reasoning, so I'm not a very credible source of opinion, now am I? :)**

**Hopefully things will start to pick up soon. I'm trying to get back into the groove of writing this again, and so the chapters will most likely be longer the further we go. Thanks for reading!!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Look at that! It's not Sunday and I'm updating! :) **

**Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

The drive over to the FBI building was silent. Mostly because she was alone, of course, but also because she just didn't have a need to turn on the radio or make any sound on her own. Lonely might have been a better word to describe it, she mused, but there wasn't time for regret. She'd chosen to come alone, and that was what she was going to stick to. After all, she'd gone by herself the last few times, and this would be no different, no matter how worriedly Booth watched her whenever she left and whenever she came back. She just ignored it until it passed over and he went back to being the same way she loved so much. It was always much better when he was relaxed, when he stopped being so concerned about her emotional state. Coming alone seemed to be helping her, and so in turn it was rubbing off on him. That was good, she convinced herself, and she pulled into a parking spot and cut the engine.

She breathed out a sigh, leaning her head back against the seat and splaying her fingers across her legs. She gripped them around her knees and then leaned forward and turned to the door, grabbing the keys from the ignition as she pulled the handle and slid one foot out.

It shut with a thud behind her, and she hit the lock button on her key set, hearing the satisfying and familiar 'beep beep' before she turned and headed towards the doors to the building. They slid open with no difficulty, and the guards just inside nodded to her as she went past. They knew who she was; they no longer checked ID. And they knew it was a Wednesday.

She headed straight for the elevator unimpeded and smiled politely at the young man who had held it for her. "Floor?" he asked as the doors slowly closed.

"Four," she said, "Thanks."

"I haven't seen you around," he commented as the elevator began to move. "What's a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?"

She gave him a large, falsely cheerful smile, "Seeing a psychologist," she stated calmly.

He shut up very quickly.

The elevator stopped on the third floor and he quickly stepped out after casting her a slightly apologetic look. He vanished from view, and another two men walked in. One of them hit the ground floor button, and the other stood in the corner with his sunglasses on, his expression blank.

They arrived at her floor, and she stepped around them to get out. The closest one saw her turn left and called a, "Good luck," to her. She turned back and nodded her thanks. Clearly the man had been to see Sweets before, and knew that it was really the only actual office in that direction, since the elevator was located so almost everything was to the right upon exiting.

She settled herself on the bench, ignoring the agent in the corner, who was muttering to himself and staring into space. His reasons for being there were very obvious. She didn't bother trying to think of how he'd come to that state, knowing it would only cause her more suffering than the good it would do to keep herself occupied.

There was no clock, something she'd gotten used to but still found highly annoying. She'd taken to carrying a watch in her bag, seeing as she hated wearing one. Her hand slipped into it, sliding the straps out of the way as she pulled the clunky golden band up enough to see it in the faint light from the flickering bulbs on the ceiling. They really needed to fix those, she thought irritably. Probably hadn't only because the janitor disliked Sweets. Or something like that, from what she'd seen last week with him dumping his vacuum contents on Sweets' feet in what he had insisted was an 'accident.'

It was ten fifty-two. She was a few minutes early. Sighing in irritation, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes, trying to ignore the discomfort of the stiff seat. Those eight minutes were plenty of time for her to have spent on the case, with Booth, over at the Jeffersonian. She never really minded making Sweets wait for her, but apparently her normal efficiency hadn't been working quite properly and she'd somehow been too quick in her departure.

Oh well, it wasn't too long for her to sit while he finished with the patient before her, which she knew by now was a young female agent from a different branch of the FBI then Booth. She'd been involved in a hostage situation, that much she'd been able to gather from the bits of conversation that she always heard when Sweets opened the door to send her out while she was still talking quickly to him about how she wanted to discuss other things during their next session... apparently she'd been one of the hostages, and it had been a tense situation that had ended when another agent had been shot right next to before she got the gun away and killed the man. It wasn't incredibly hard to see why such a young agent, probably not long on the job, was so greatly affected by all of it. Temperance couldn't blame her at all for needing to see Sweets, and as the weeks passed by the woman had seemed to be improving each time she saw her.

She wondered, briefly, if the woman thought about her at all, the one who passed her going into the office as she went out... if she ever heard any bits of conversation. If she knew what _she'd_ been through. What she would think of that... if she would compare the situation to her own, the way she always seemed to be doing herself. The woman's face always seemed to remind her of herself, of Kenton, of the Gravedigger, of Jake. She could think the name now, yes, but it didn't mean she enjoyed it.

The door opened, and she stayed seated as the woman stepped out.

"Thanks so much," she said in the doorway, "This has meant so much to me... and I don't know if I'd have gotten through without your help."

"My pleasure, Agent Hallidon. You'll do just fine; I'll send in the full forms to your boss as soon as I get the chance. You'll be back at field work before you know it... and I know you'll do very well."

"Thank you," she whispered, nodding quickly, her ponytail bobbing up and down.

"If you need to talk, you're free to come back and I'll fit you in; any time at all."

She nodded again, then turned and hurried away towards the elevator, casting Temperance a small smile as she went passed, which was returned. Well, she was free, for the most part. She'd always have it with her, what had happened, that she knew from her own experiences, but that agent would be able to get on with her life now. If only she could do that, too.

But it was her choice, she reminded herself. She came here every week because it helped, and because she _wanted_ to. She could stop whenever she wanted.

The only problem... she wasn't sure when it would be right to stop.

"Dr. Brennan," Sweets said to her, nodding in greeting. She got up from the bench and followed him into the office, the door shutting softly behind them.

He didn't need to point to the chair, she simply settled into it, feeling the familiarity of this scene. It wasn't an entirely unpleasant sensation, but it certainly wasn't cheerful, realizing how normal this situation was for her now.

"How did this past week go?" he asked in a friendly way. This was the norm, of course, since she had taken his advice and his request seriously and chosen to address him as a friend and treat their meetings as such. Only it was a bit more professional and almost always incredibly serious.

"Well, you were at the wedding," she said, "So you know that I was as well."

He smiled, "Yes, Dr. Brennan, I know that."

She grinned back, enjoying how easy it was to twist their conversation and not answer the way he wanted her to. She'd gotten quite good at it over the past few months, and she had a feeling it unsettled Sweets a bit, how quickly she'd learned and caught on to his methods.

"It was pretty busy," she answered at last, choosing to go down the path he was looking for. "I didn't have much else on my mind besides preparations and making sure it would all run smoothly for Ange."

"And that was good, correct?"

"Yeah," she agreed, "It was nice, having so much to focus on. And it was certainly thrilling how the ring almost got lost and the band showed up ten minutes late."

She'd thrown in a tone of sarcasm for good measure, which didn't go unnoticed.

He nodded and she saw the corners of his lips twitch upwards a bit.

"So you're coping very well, so many months later."

She simply nodded to that question.

"Nightmares?"

She stiffened slightly at that one. It was the one topic she always refused to go into depth with the psychologist on. She told Booth about her fears and about what happened, well, most of it at least, and that helped. But she wasn't telling Sweets anything, and she never planned to. She didn't care how useful dreams were to his psychology analysis or whatever.

"Just a few over the past month. One this past weekend, and that's it," she answered firmly, her eyes hard.

He nodded, knowing he wasn't getting more that that. He apparently wanted to try anyways, though. "And they're getting less vivid?"

"They've been less vivid for two months," she answered, her tone taking on irritation now. "I told you that."

"Friend, remember, Dr. Brennan?" he cautioned, his tone calming.

"Call me Brennan," she repeated for the third time that month. If she was his friend, why did he always defer to the title, rather than addressing her the way everyone else she was friends with did? Maybe Booth had threatened him or something, which was rather a viable hypothesis, if she thought about it...

"Brennan, then," he said, surprising her. "What effect do these nightmares have on you, if they aren't as... vivid as those from right after the attack?"

"They still upset me, if that's what you're getting at," she replied, feeling uncomfortable. She fidgeted in the seat, wishing he'd move on to another topic.

"That's expected," he assured her, not that she needed it. She already knew it was to be expected, otherwise they wouldn't still be considered nightmares, now would they? "But less so than the earlier ones, I'm sure?" She nodded, meeting his eyes with what she hoped was a look that would convince him to drop it and talk about something else. He apparently didn't get the message. "Booth living with you has helped?"

So they'd gotten to the topic of Booth. Not unexpected, of course, since it _was_ Sweets.

"You know it has," she said somewhat dully. She was getting tired of this. When was he going to ask something new? He'd usually gotten them into a reasonable discussion by this time in their session. This... well this just wasn't helping her at all.

"Have you thought at all about what I brought up before?"

She refrained from glaring. Barely. "Yes, I have."

"And?"

"Booth and I are in a relationship. Nothing more, Sweets. We aren't going to get married."

"Nothing more than a relationship? Dr... um, I mean, _Brennan_, how exactly would you classify your relation with Booth, then? You are romantically involved, correct?"

This time she did glare. "He loves me, if that's what you mean," she said through her teeth, her eyes blazing.

"How is that different from the relationship couples have before getting married, then?"

"We live together," she stated, as if that should clear it all up. "But _not_ together."

"You're referring to your sexual relationship," he said, nodding in understanding now. She didn't answer, which was as good as a yes, she knew. "From what I understand of what you've said before, Booth is not interested in any aspect of your relationship other than being with you and your safety."

"Exactly," she said firmly. "It's not... a _real_ relationship."

"Have you mentioned this to Booth?"

"Somewhat," she muttered. "Not... entirely."

"Maybe you should."

"I've discussed... sex with him. He refused."

Sweets eyebrows went up. He must be surprised that Booth had turned her down.

"You asked him?" he questioned in what sounded like alarm.

"Yes," she answered, feeling confused. "Why wouldn't I?"

He groaned and rested his head in his hands. "Okay. Um... Brennan, listen. Booth is very... well he's incredibly protective of you. I thought you knew that."

"I do." What did that have to do with anything?

"Well then you can see why it's very obvious he would... refuse." She stared at him. "Okay... Booth, he... Dr. Brennan, you were sexually assaulted; Booth is terrified of hurting you."

"Brennan," she corrected automatically while another part of her brain was replaying his words for her.

"Sorry, Brennan, right. But do you see why he wouldn't be willing to engage in..."

Suddenly she nodded. Yes, she could see that. "I understand," she said to Sweets. "But... I don't know how to move past that. Clearly Booth cannot remain of that view forever; he does have needs."

Sweets leaned forward slightly. "Do you believe you're ready for something like that?"

She hesitated. That was a question she really didn't know the answer to. But she didn't want to remain trapped like this forever; she wanted to get on with her life the way it had been... only with Booth now. She didn't want to be scared of anything.

"The fact that you are unsure leads me to think you should give this more thought. And more time. The fact that Booth doesn't wish to pull your relationship in that direction is a clear sign of just how much he cares about you, and only you. Not the physical part."

She nodded again. Yes, it did, didn't it?

"Okay, so let's talk about Angela and Hodgins," he said, changing the topic on them. Suddenly his reasoning for bringing up marriage made more sense. Sort of like Ange's comment about freaking her out when their last wedding had ended with her and Booth at the alter. She hadn't realized that was bothering her until much later, and Zach's departure to Iraq had further clouded it.

"What about them?"

"Well, clearly the idea of your friends getting married was something you found great joy in. Have your views on marriage changed at all? Even slightly?"

"Ange and Hodgins are happy; marriage works for them, even if it doesn't for the majority of the population."

He nodded slowly. "Right. But this is a change, nonetheless. You accept that people can be happy in marriage, and that it is a conventional way to live... for _some_, of course."

She scowled, but nodded anyways in agreement with what he'd said. It was possible, yes. "But I don't consider myself in that range," she said as Sweets opened his mouth to continue. "Marriage is an antiquated ritual. If two people can live together, then it is far more of a connection without the legal or religious aspect tied in. Relationships aren't meant to be tied in such a way, at least not how I see it. Two people should be able to live together without such ties or such a ritual, and when it doesn't work out they are more free to move on to other mates without the trouble of divorce or other issues."

"...Yes, that does fit truthfully," Sweets replied slowly. "But yet you agree that Ange and Hodgins _should_ have gotten married. You wanted them to, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did," she answered testily, "Because that would make them happy. They both believe in marriage, and they wanted the ritual and all that. So I was happy for them because they're my friends. It doesn't mean my views for myself have changed in the slightest. They _haven't_."

There was a long pause.

"Okay, then, let's talk about how things are going at the lab with the two of them gone," Sweets finally spoke up a bit awkwardly.

Fine. That was an acceptable topic, and one she'd been expecting him to pursue all along. It was about time he got away from marriage and moved on to it. Marriage had nothing to do with her reason for coming to see him.

"How have you been handling their absence?"

"Very well," she responded confidently. "The interns are doing more work in limbo since the casework has slowed down, but Booth and I are currently working on a murder. The replacement entomologist isn't anything I can't handle."

His eyebrows went up. "That suggests that the replacement is someone who you _have_ to handle. Is everything all right?"

"Dr. Thomson... we worked together a while back."

"Oh. I... didn't know that," Sweets half-muttered, looking very nervous all of a sudden. And... guilty?

"Did you have something to do with him coming to work with us while Hodgins is on his honeymoon?" she asked incredulously.

"Dr. Brennan, you have to understand that I was simply asked to find a replacement since I worked with your team. Dr. Thomson was in the area, and he had great credentials. Plus, I knew he'd worked at the lab before, although I didn't realize you'd been there when he quit. Um... how well do you know him?"

"He wasn't around long after I started working there," she said with an irritated sigh. "He left _because_ I worked there."

"Oh." Sweets had gone rather pale. Or paler than usual, she supposed. "I'm... very sorry. I wouldn't have recommended him if I'd known. Really."

For once, she believed his apology was sincere. If he'd still been following her around like he had been after Booth got shot, then she might believe it was another social experiment to check her well-being or something, but he rarely even visited the Jeffersonian as of late. She nodded her forgiveness.

"Not your fault," she said. "And I've got the situation under control," she added with a glint in her eye. He was quick to nod his understanding to that. At least he knew she could take care of herself, and he believed her when she said it.

"I should get going," she said, getting to her feet. "Mr. Nigel-Murray is working on identifying the weapon, but there are circumstances that require my involvement in the matter. I'm pretty sure our session is nearly up anyways."

"Over," he said suddenly, making her frown. "It's our session is nearly _over_. Or... our _time_ is nearly up."

She just shook her head at him. He sounded like Booth, almost, with his corrections of her word usage.

"Next Wednesday?" he checked as she headed towards the door.

She paused, thinking about the woman who always came here before her, and who was now heading back out into the field. She wouldn't be coming back to see Sweets again.

"I'll make an appointment when I see fit to do so," she answered instead, her voice firm.

He seemed surprised, but he smiled a little. "Very well, Dr. Bren- I mean... um... hey, can I ask you something?"

She turned back, taking her hand off the doorknob. "Sure."

"If you don't want me to call you Dr. Brennan... can I call you Bones? Please?"

She resisted the urge to laugh at him, imagining Booth's face if he ever heard the psychologist calling her that.

_"No."_ she stated firmly. "I've already told you that before."

He sighed in defeat. "Right. I just thought... you know, since we're technically friends..."

"Cam doesn't call me Bones. Neither do Angela or Hodgins. Only Booth is allowed to call me that. And his son." She quickly continued speaking before Sweets could launch into an analysis of why that was, "I'll see you around. We might even need your help on this latest case."

Then she vanished out the door before he could say another word, thinking about how she wished she didn't feel the need to keep coming back here. It was something else to work on... getting away from talking about her feelings and her life so she could focus on work more... and then at the same time working on how she felt about Booth and how she was going to get over what the past still held on her, and apparently, on him.

For now it looked like for the second one she was going to _need _the first one. She sighed.

But she pushed all ideas about marriage and everything else Sweets had said out of her mind, and instead climbed into her car with her only thoughts being about how she hoped Nigel-Murray and Thomson had been successful with their analysis of the thread they'd found and the particulates from the weapon. Maybe they'd have something new for her.

* * *

**Next chapter will be up next weekend probably. I'm going to try to update once a week so that I can get ahead with prewritten stuff. Then I'll be able to update closer together again, like back at the beginning of What She's Been Through :) Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far; I appreciate it :)**


	5. Chapter 5

"Bones!" his voice called, the first sound she heard as the doors slid open to admit her to the lab. She turned he head to see him coming towards her at a light jog from the direction of Cam's office. She stopped and let him catch up before she started towards the platform again, this time with him by her side.

"So... how'd it go?" he asked awkwardly as she slid her card through the reader and they both went up the steps and made their way over to her station.

"Fine," she answered easily, "Sweets was frustrating, though, does that count?"

"Sure, if you want it to," he said, smiling now. "What did he do this time?"

She hesitated, snapping on rubber gloves, then sighed and answered the question. "He kept bringing up marriage," she muttered. "I swear, Ange must have paid him before she left, with how insistent he is."

She cast him a worried look, suddenly realizing that he might be offended since he believed in marriage. He didn't look offended though. It was more... concerned. Oh god, he wasn't planning on marriage in their future, was he? Surely he understood that she wouldn't want that. That she'd rather they just stayed together, with love being the only thing holding them to each other. That was how it _should_ be.

"And he asked if he could call me Bones," she added, suddenly desperate to get his mind off of the other topic.

"Seriously?" he asked, his eyebrows shooting up. "How dumb is he? I mean... um, you don't want him to call you that, _do_ you?"

"Of course not," she said, barely giving him time to finish his question before she answered it. "I told him no, naturally. I think he got the wrong idea because I told him to call me Brennan."

"You did?"

"Well, he's been calling you Booth, so there seemed no reason for him to continue calling me Dr. Brennan. I've been telling him for a while now, actually, but he still defers back to it constantly. Mr. Nigel-Murray, what do you have for me?"

She switched gears, turning away from him and towards her assistant. She needed to get back to work on this case, or they'd never solve it.

"Dr. Thomson and I were able to calculate that you were indeed correct about the fiber coming from the weapon... it isn't standard thread from clothing or really anything we can identify... it appears to be some type of twine, very old and worn from our analysis of it so far. His analysis, I mean," he corrected at an annoyed snort coming from the replacement entomologist's station.

"Any identification on the type of weapon yet?"

"It's an old, rusting, kitchen knife," Thomson spoke up, standing and coming around the desk to face all of them directly while he spoke. "Either the twine came from it, or it came from something the murderer was wearing, maybe a type of woven bracelet."

She nodded, frowning slightly as her eyes roved over the body. "Have you gotten any suspects yet?" she asked, turning her gaze back to Booth again.

"We don't have an ID... so no, I don't."

"Dentals?" she questioned Nigel-Murray.

"Damaged, and from what we did have... not a match for anything in the database." She scowled slightly in irritation. This was proving far more challenging without Angela. The skull was in reasonable condition; by now her friend could have had a sketch running through her facial recognition software.

"Any damage to the bones that suggests a childhood break or fracture?"

He shook his head apologetically, and she sighed.

"Okay... go over everything again and focus specifically on details that might give us identification. I'll help."

The grad-student nodded and the two of them got to work, leaving Booth and Thomson to occupy themselves however they could. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Booth head to his typical railing and lean back against it. She could feel his eyes on her, but after a while the sensation faded as her mind spun through terms and data while she scanned each bone, studying every marking in extreme detail.

"Dr. Brennan," Nigel-Murray spoke up from the other end of the table a short while later. She pulled her attention away from the sternum.

"Yes?"

He waved her over and she stepped around to his side, leaning closer to study the small bone he was pointing at with a gloved finger.

"Oh..." she said, a small smile spreading across her face. "Excellent work, Mr. Nigel-Murray."

He nodded his thanks, grinning at the compliment. Meanwhile, she picked up the entire skeleton foot that was in question and held it up carefully, staring at the portion that her grad-student had pointed out.

"What is it, Bones?" Booth asked, and she turned, having not noticed that he'd come right up to the table again.

"We didn't notice during out original examination, but the... um, the _pinky_ toe, as you'd call it, was broken. Probably recently, too, only a few months before her death. It was close to the..." she trailed off again, choosing to speak in terms he'd understand rather than making him ask her to repeat, "The rest of the foot, and you can see that it was beginning to heal, when it was broken again, assumably during decomposition or animal scavenging... maybe something stepped on it, from the way it splintered... but it was definitely broken at some point before she was murdered. I'll have Hodg-" she stopped short, frowning in irritation as she realized what she'd said. "I'll run a search for recent toe breaks in the area, and see what comes up. Then we can go off of skeletal markers to determine the victim... although I doubt there will be too many of them to go through."

"You'd be surprised how many people can break their pinky toe, Bones."

"Have you?"

"Um, no. But, you know, people could get stepped on, like you said, or slam it into some damn wall that got in the way..."

"Walls don't get in the way," she corrected with a frown.

"Yeah, I know, Bones. But sometimes... I really wonder."

She frowned until she realized he was being somewhat sarcastic. She smiled, and he laughed lightly as he saw that it had dawned on her. Then she turned and headed to the computer that Ange or Hodgins usually accessed for a scan like this. She wasn't used to having to do the entirety of the work on her own... with only an assistant to aid her. It was rather a pain to not have Hodgins around supplying information and conversation when it was needed, and Angela showing up to point out the obvious when even Booth wasn't able to see it, or coming up with the answer all on her own when none of them had thought to ask her...

She really missed those two, she admitted to herself sadly.

* * *

"Danielle Anderson," Booth called to her, coming back in the doors of the Jeffersonian, holding a file over his head. "And she had a record!" he added triumphantly.

"We already _knew_ it was Danielle Anderson," she said, making a move to snatch the file out of his hands as he came up onto the platform. He pulled his hand back with annoyingly quick reflexes, keeping it just out of reach. She made another grab, and he evaded her once more.

"Yeah, I know. But... I was just, you know, shouting it out there 'cuz I got the file."

She couldn't help but laugh at his almost abashed tone, and she finally succeeded in getting the file out of his hands as he laughed too.

She flipped through it, turning her body quickly as he made to snatch it back.

"Armed robbery?" she read, raising an eyebrow.

"Yup, Bones. And she had a _partner_." He pulled out another folder, which he'd kept well-concealed so that she hadn't even realized there were two originally.

She slid to the side and swiftly plucked it from his fingers before he could say another word or even react.

"Gotcha," she teased, dropping the file on the victim onto an empty evidence table as she scanned through the other one.

"Alex Lemaire. Armed robbery, attempted murder, three DUIs..."

"We're tracking him down now... shouldn't be hard, as he's on parole and all, but you know, that doesn't necessarily mean he hasn't fled the district, _especially_ if it is him who killed her."

"I wouldn't doubt it..." she muttered, flipping through the other pages of the file. "There's stuff going back all the way to when he was eighteen in here..."

"There was probably more before that, but his juvenile record is sealed."

"He threw his whole life away," she said, shaking her head.

"Probably didn't have any positive parental influence... there's some drug charges in there too, I think."

"Yeah," she said with a nod, finding two pages dedicated to it. She closed the file with a snap. "A person's parental influence doesn't totally determine if they'll turn out as a criminal." she added.

"I wasn't referring to you," he said carefully. "You had positive influence till you were fifteen, Bones, even if they were... criminals. And not to mention you were a genius even then, and you didn't break the rules, because that was who you were. This guy... well he probably hung with the wrong crowd, his parents probably didn't care where he was or what he was doing... headed into drugs... all the things to turn him into a total rebel. Or he was just always _bad_. But you don't believe in that. Society shaping us and all that?"

She managed to smile at that, "Okay, fine, yes. Parental roles play a _large_ part of who we become. But part of how our brains work shows how the information is stored and how it is perceived and used later on."

"Right. Anyways, they'll give us a call when they locate him and bring him in. In the meantime... how about lunch? It's already way past my normal eating time, and I know you don't _have_ a normal time to eat, but this is me trying to tell you that you _need_ one. And it has to be earlier than this."

She laughed, "Fine. I'll even pay for us both. Where do you want to go?"

"Founding Fathers?" he suggested, "Oh, and you aren't paying. I am."

"Why shouldn't I pay?" she argued as she pulled off her gloves and walked past him to drop them in the bin next to her station. "I have more money than you do."

"Doesn't matter," he answered, shaking his head, "I'm still paying. You're my girlfriend; I'm not letting you pay for my meal. I got it covered."

She stared at him in disbelief. Okay, she had handled the opening of the doors for her reasonably well, but when he refused to be rational about the dating rituals when it was clear that it made far more _sense_ for her to pay... she wasn't going to let it slide.

"Then I'm not going," she stated, her hands sliding down to her hips as she set her jaw defiantly.

He groaned, "Bones, come on!" Then he sighed, looking away and shaking his head. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and attempted to replicate the smile he'd given her that day that she'd dubbed it his 'charm smile.' It didn't work though, same as it hadn't then.

"Nope," she answered firmly, her icy blue eyes boring into his brown ones. She ignored the pleading look she saw there. She wasn't giving in on this.

"I'll let you drive..." he offered, wiggling his eyebrows. He even held up the keys and jingled them.

She shook her head. "Not gunna work."

He tilted his head back in defeat. "Fine, we pay our own, then," he said, as though this was what she wanted and he was giving in. She had to admit, it was a very good attempt on his part, and he was incredibly convincing. Too bad she wasn't budging from her original terms. Not a chance.

"No. Either I pay for both or we don't go. Simple as that."

"For God's sake, _why_, Bones?"

"Because I want to."

His face was blank for a moment, and then he chuckled suddenly, apparently finding what she'd said amusing.

"You are unbelievable," he sighed. _"Fine."_

Instantly her entire demeanor transformed, and her hands dropped to her sides. She smiled as she walked past him down the steps, bumping into him, and she almost ran to the parking garage as a voice shouted loudly behind her.

"Bones, how the hell did you get my keys!?"

* * *

"Temperance Brennan, you are a _thief_."

She crunched on the French fry that she'd just snatched and smiled teasingly at him; He rolled his eyes and started eating again. She grabbed another one when he wasn't looking, but he noticed.

"Hey, I am paying," she defended herself. "Technically, they are _my_-"

"Now that is _not_ fair, and you know it! First you demand to pay, which I protest very strongly, then you snatch my keys and insist on driving, and now you steal my fries and use the _first_ one against me! That's like..." he trailed off, apparently unable to come up with a good analogy or whatever it was he'd been attempting to do.

He scowled at her when she laughed at him.

"So are there any other suspects to interrogate?" she said, pulling the conversation back to the case and away from her. She resisted the urge to grab the fry that was hanging off the side of his plate.

"I figured we could head over to her apartment after we finish up here, and see if we can find any neighbors to talk to about her."

"She lived in DC, right?"

"Yup. Pretty close to here, too. It won't be a long drive." He flipped the file open on the table and read off the address. "Ten minutes," he estimated with a shrug. She nodded and turned back to picking at the few bits of onion left over from her salad.

"All set?" the rather perky waitress asked with a wide smile. She glanced back and forth between them questioningly.

"I'm good, thanks," she said, lifting the plate and handing it to her. "Leave his, though, we aren't done with the fries."

"You mean _I'm_ not done with the fries," Booth corrected. She stuck her tongue out at him childishly and he laughed.

The waitress smirked at their antics. "Pie?" she questioned, pointing her pen at Booth. She recognized them from their other times in here, apparently.

"What do you have today?" he asked, his eyes brightening at the prospect of pastry.

"Raspberry is the special, but we have apple as well, and there might be a few slices of blueberry still available."

"Apple it is, then."

"You know, I think they only started serving pie because you complained," she pointed out as the waitress left with her plate, off to go get the pie for him.

"So? Every place that serves food should have pie. Without pie... I mean, they're nothing. They'd lose business. They should thank me."

"I'm sure they do," she said with a half-shrug. She pointed to a table in the corner where a blonde waitress was serving a family a slice each.

He grinned, "Glad to see I've done some good. Everyone loves pie." She raised an eyebrow. "Well, everyone _besides_ you."

She laughed and shook her head at him.

The waitress returned, setting a dish with a large slice of apple pie on it down in front of him. He nodded his thanks to her and then picked up his fork and cut off a piece. He hesitated instead of lifting it up to his mouth, and then pointed it at her almost accusingly.

"Come on, Bones, just _try_ it. I think it's the least you can do, given how unfair you've been so far today."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, Booth," she reached to cut off a bit with her own fork, but he swatted her hand away, grinning, and held up his fork to eye level. She rolled her eyes again.

"Open up," he said teasingly.

"Booth, I don't need to be fed. I'm perfectly capable of eating off of my own fork, thank you."

"You didn't object with the ice cream."

She frowned. Right. She'd forgotten about that. She gave him a glare to show she wasn't exactly pleased with it, but she opened her mouth anyways, feeling like an idiot.

He grinned and slid his fork into her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully on the pastry as he pulled his fork back and cut off some for himself.

"Not bad," she commented reluctantly. It was actually pretty good... the fruit was soft and warm, and the cinnamon sort of cut down on the usual taste she associated with it being cooked, and why she usually disliked it so much. It wasn't bad tasting, but she wasn't enthusiastic about it either, and certainly far from the way Booth was.

"You want some more?" he suggested eagerly, clearly enjoying that she hadn't said it was horrible.

She shook her head. "No, that was enough. You enjoy your pie."

He shrugged and went back to eating while she helped herself to his forgotten French fries.

The waitress came back with the check, and she quickly snatched it before Booth could. His hand landed where it had been a split second before, and he grimaced irritably.

"Nice try, Booth."

She had some cash on her, so she paid with that rather than her credit card, Booth watching her the whole time. She gave him a smug smile as the waitress came back to collect it, and he rolled his eyes, popping the last bit of crust into his mouth.

"Okay, let's head out, Bones," he said, stretching as he climbed off of his seat and pulled his jacket back on. It was raining outside once more, she noticed as she glanced towards the front of the restaurant.

She got out of her seat and grabbed her coat as well.

They arrived at the apartment building just as the rain started to come down in sheets. Booth groaned, leaning forward to stare upwards through the windshield. "Why?" he implored to the sky.

She just opened her door without a word and ran up the steps to stand under the safety area in front of the door, which was barely sheltered enough. The rain drops on the ground splashed in a puddle which had formed in the damaged cement of the top step. Booth joined her a moment later, shaking out his hair distastefully.

"Ever notice that it always get worse _right_ when you're about to go out in it?" he commented irritably.

She furrowed her brow, "No, I didn't."

He sighed and then turned away and hit the buzzer to be let in, informing the man that asked him what he needed that he was FBI.

They stepped into the building and were met by what was assumably whoever was in charge of the building. "This is about Danielle, isn't it?" he asked. He was an overweight man with a large chin, ears that stuck out on the side, small beady eyes, and very little hair, which was a dull brown nearing gray in color.

Booth nodded, "Yes it is, sir." He held up his badge. "Special Agent Seeley Booth, this here is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan. We'd like to ask some questions of you and any of her neighbors." He tucked the badge back in his belt. "When was the last time you saw Ms. Anderson?"

He ran a hand over the back of his head, the thin bits of his hair sliding back and forth under the movement. "Well, that would have been..." he seemed to be counting in his head as he stared at the ceiling. "Probably two weeks ago... I think it was a Sunday... But you've gotta understand, I don't really see much of my clients unless there's an issue; you know, leaky pipe and the like. Danielle never had an issue with that sorta thing."

"Is it common to have issues with that 'sorta thing' here?"

"Hey, it's an old building, not my fault. We have complaints every week or so from somebody, and Mrs. Maple over in 1C is a really pain with her creaky floorboards, I mean, for God's sake, everyone else puts up with them, I don't get how the woman thinks-"

"Sir, let's stick to Ms. Anderson, got it?"

"Oh, right. Sorry. The name's Rich Hashly by the way."

"Okay, Mr. Hashly, why did you refer to Ms. Anderson by her first name if you didn't know her that well?"

"Hey, I know their names, I collect rent... stuff like that. She was just less of a complainer than all the rest, so I never _saw_ too much of her. Perfect client, I'm telling you. Not like that Mrs. Maple, or Don Tilley on the top floor, with his cracked bathtub. How is that my fault, if he's been living there for two years and only now he notices the issue? It couldn't have been there before, now could it? No. It had to have been his fault, and yet he wants _me_ to pay for some fancy repair people instead of the usual ones that I-"

"Mr. Hashly!"

"Right. Sorry."

"If you didn't know Ms. Anderson very well, could you at least direct us to her apartment so we can question her neighbors, who might have more to tell us?"

"Yeah, sure. Some of your people were here earlier, going through it and all that..."

"Yes, I know. But we're here for the neighbors. They were just a search team."

"Made a real scene, I'll tell you. Maple was complaining all morning about people traipsing past her apartment, took forever to calm that woman down, I'll tell you..."

He trailed off and stood there for a moment. "Oh. Sorry," he said, realizing he'd been asked to take them there. Booth shot her a look with his eyebrows raised, rolling his eyes towards the man as he turned his back and began to slowly climb the stairs, his pants hanging rather low on his behind.

She wrinkled her nose, and Booth went in front of her so she wouldn't have to walk behind that.

"She was in 2D," he said over his shoulder as they climbed. "I'm gunna have to put an ad up for an open apartment now... haven't had to do that in _years_."

They reached the door, and he gestured to it.

"Well, here's where she lived... you're welcome to question any of the other occupants of the building. Here's a key..." he pulled out a chain and miraculously found the correct one in under a minute. He unhooked it and handed it to Booth. "That'll get you into her room if you want to look around or anything... I'll be downstairs in my room. 1A."

Booth nodded. "Thank you; you've been very... helpful, Mr. Hashly."

The man nodded and made his slow way back to the steps and down them, vanishing from view.

"Do you think he had anything to do with it?" she asked curiously.

"Not so loud," he hissed. "And it's possible, but not likely. I've still got our friend Lemaire pegged as our guy. For now... why don't you see if you can find anything in her apartment of interest that the FBI team might not have realized the significance of, and I'll work on the neighbors." He tossed her the key as he headed up the hall to the next door.

She eyed the little key and then shrugged and slid it into the lock, letting herself into the apartment.

It was rather small, but overall it seemed to be pretty neatly organized. The FBI team had apparently not torn it to shreds in their search. She snapped on a pair of rubber gloves that she pulled from her pocket, and then began to look around, flipping through stacks of magazines and opening cabinets.

"Neighbor across the hall knew her pretty well," Booth's voice came from the doorway around ten minutes later. She glanced up from the bookshelf.

"She had my books," she commented, pointing to the familiar titles on the top shelf.

"A criminal who reads crime novels. Not a first."

"Kind of ironic though, isn't it?" she murmured, scanning the shelf in search of other similar titles. She found some Agatha Christie on the bottom shelf, and then came across the Harry Potter collection in the middle. "Have you read these?" she questioned Booth.

"What? Oh, those? Yeah."

"Are they any good?"

He gave her an incredulous look. "This is why I told you to get a tv years ago. It was all over the news when the last book came out. Probably the best selling series of all time, though I heard there was some teenage romance series that was rivaling it or something."

"Twilight," she said with a nod.

He just gave her a look of disbelief. "Please tell me you haven't read _that_ when you don't even know if Harry Potter is 'any good'."

"No, I haven't, but now I _have_ a tv. I saw it on the news."

"Where was I?"

"In the shower."

"Oh. Wow, you watch tv without me forcing you to?"

She laughed, "Yes, Booth, I do. I gotta admit, I actually missed having a tv a little bit, and I only realized it once we went out and bought me another one."

"Now we just have to get you to decorate your apartment with things other than artifacts and skulls, and you'll be completely normal."

"They're decorative and I like them," she defended herself, feeling a bit hurt that he disliked them so much... and that he wanted her to be normal. She'd thought he liked that she was so individualistic and the way she decorated...

"I was kidding, Bones," he said, his smile faltering as he saw the look on her face. Then it came back on brightly as he stepped towards her and flicked a finger under the edge of her shirt on her shoulder, giving a quick but gentle yank. The necklace jerked out from under her shirt and fell on top of the fabric. The tiny golden hexagon of bones reflected the overhead light. He smiled at her. "I know that they're decorative. And if you were normal... well, you wouldn't be my Bones, now would you?"

She smiled again, and he kissed her. "Please tell me you didn't really think I was serious, Bones."

"A little bit," she admitted.

He sighed. "Come on, Bones, when are you gunna figure it out?" he pulled her up against him and slid a strand of hair behind her ear, his forehead resting against hers. "I love everything about you, skulls and all. You should know that by now."

She smiled at him and then pulled away, knowing they had to finish up here if they were ever going to get back to the lab.

"Did you question all the neighbors?" she asked suddenly, realizing he'd come back awfully quick.

"Nah, just the ones across the hall and the ones down to the right... I checked upstairs and most of the people weren't around. Working, probably. It is the middle of the day, and anyone who lives here... well they need to work, I'm sure. Otherwise they'd be bunking somewhere a _lot_ nicer."

She nodded, "Very good point."

"So... you wear that often?" he questioned, nodding towards the gold necklace.

She felt herself blush slightly, and saw his grin widen enormously.

"Every day," she muttered.

"Thanks, Bones," he told her, all teasing gone from his tone. He looked at her, his chocolate eyes filled with sincerity. "You know, I really wasn't sure you'd wear it at all."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"All that talk about gifts and jewelry being claims and such... like wearing a necklace is my way of marking you as my property or something."

She shrugged. "That's true." It was, too. All gifts like this were ways of claiming the woman as belonging to them, and by wearing the gift it was pretty much consent to that idea. She was no exception. "Ever consider that maybe I didn't mind this time?"

"Are you serious?" he asked, obviously baffled that she'd suddenly dropped that belief. She hastened to correct his assumption.

"All things like that _are_ marks of claiming territory," she told him, "And I resent it, usually. But seeing as you're always with me, and you have a way of... showing possession by way of glaring at anyone who shows any interest... it probably doesn't matter as much. And besides..." she reached up to twist the little hexagon gently between her fingers. "I really like this. But," she cut him off before he could speak, "I have another way of looking at it as well. While it is a marking of possession, it is also a token of... love. So I wear it without anyone seeing it, because they don't need to see it. I know it's there. _That's_ what I think is important."

He stared at her for a moment, and then he slid a hand around her head and pulled her in for another, longer kiss.

"I really love you, you know that?" he whispered, still holding her close.

"I know," she murmured back. "I love you too."

There was a cough from the doorway and they immediately jumped away from each other in alarm. Mr. Hashly stood there, looking confused about whether he should be embarrassed or amused by the scene he'd walked in on.

"Um... the woman who lives in the apartment above this one said she might have something you'd be interested in. She just got back from picking up groceries."

"Thanks," Booth said gruffly, and he led the way to the door, shoving past Hashly, who stepped back quickly to let her go past after him, apparently choosing embarrassed as his prime emotion as he rubbed his nose and stared at the floor. He stayed where he was as they made their way to the steps and headed up to find this new possible witness.

"You the FBI agents?" an elderly woman asked them, standing in front of a slightly open door. She'd clearly come out to wait for them, Temperance noted, seeing the bags of groceries which were in her line of sight through the opening in the door, sitting on the counter. From what she could observe from out in the hall, the apartment was identical to that of Danielle Anderson.

"I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth, and this is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan. Yes, I'm FBI. Do you have information pertaining to Ms. Anderson that might help our investigation?"

"So terrible; she was such a nice young lady..." the woman said with a sigh, shaking her head. "The way things are today..."

She opened her mouth to point out that the 'nice young lady' was a criminal, but a glance from Booth stopped her. This was one of those times when certain facts should be left out, she realized. She let him continue speaking unimpeded.

"Right, um, Miss..?"

"Jane. Jane Sickle. Oh, sorry, do come in! Come in!" she shuffled through the door, holding it open for them.

Booth nodded graciously and stepped through the door. She followed closely behind him.

"Tea?" Jane offered eagerly, smiling at the two of them. "It's not every day I have the FBI in my living room."

"Generally having the FBI in your home is a negative turn on life," she commented.

Booth shot her a look, but the woman laughed good naturedly. "Very true, very true... But when you're my age... oh nothing like this worries you much any more. Just take it as it comes, and I can tell my book club I helped solve a murder... we read murder mysteries, you see."

"Something you had in common with Ms. Anderson," she noted with a slight frown.

"I had no idea she was a mystery fan!" exclaimed Miss Sickle. "Oh dear, how sad..."

So it was more of tragedy that someone she knew was dead because they like the same genre of books? How on earth did this woman justify that thinking pattern in her head?

Booth was staring at her in that 'don't say what you're thinking,' way, though, so she complied and bit her lip, looking around the apartment as though she was interested in it so that Booth would see she wasn't going to get in the way or interrupt. He moved on to questioning, trying to keep the woman on topic this time.

"Okay, Miss Sickle, do you have any information that might help us? How well did you know your neighbor?"

"Danielle was a sweet girl; always said hi to me in the morning... helped me with my groceries a few times..."

"Right. Anything specific though, Miss Sickle. Did she have any boys around recently?"

"Oh, _yes_..." Jane said, shaking her head and wagging her finger, "This one young man... not the type for her to hang out with, no, not at all... He was trouble, I'll tell you..."

"...Do you have a name?"

"Alexander. Sorry, I don't have a last name... but he had a lot of tattoos... very rude, too. Spoke something awful with all those terrible words... can't for the life of me see why a girl like her would be interested in something like him."

Booth waited for more, while Temperance absentmindedly walked further into the apartment, looking around. She spotted a bookshelf and began scanning through the titles.

"But he stopped coming around a while ago, and I thought she told him to skedaddle. Then I see him knocking on her door a few weeks ago, and she lets him in. I heard _arguing_ through the floor while I was making my supper that night."

"So they didn't get along?"

"From what I heard... that's what it seemed."

Booth glanced meaningfully in her direction, but she didn't respond, instead pointing at the books to get his attention.

"You have quite a collection," she said quickly as the old lady turned and saw her standing next to the bookcase. She pulled out one and held it up. "Did you like this one?" she questioned.

"Oh, one of my absolute..." she trailed off, frowning suddenly. "Brennan..." she muttered, "What did you say her name was?" she asked suddenly, spinning to look at Booth with a sudden sparkle of excitement in her eyes, gesturing towards Temperance. She didn't give him a chance to answer though, instead hurrying forward faster than she would have thought possible for someone who appeared so frail, and grabbed her hand firmly, shaking it with a fervor. "You _are _her..." she whispered. "I had all of your books, you know, but I was robbed a while ago and they took some of my _books_. Can you imagine? The signed one, too..." she said with a sigh. "I had my niece go to a book signing for me..."

"I'd be happy to sign the one you still have," she said, pulling her hand carefully out of the woman's grasp and giving Booth a look that asked him to help her out. The woman was suddenly very excited and she wasn't exactly sure how to handle it.

"Would you?" she gasped. "My stars... to think... oh the ladies are _never_ going to believe me when I tell them... oh, but if I show them the signed book... thank you, sweetheart!" she beamed.

"Okay, Miss Sickle," Booth cut in, "Dr. Brennan will sign your book for you... and why don't you tell me more about Ms. Anderson and Alex?"

"Right, of course... my this is exciting though..." Temperance grabbed a pen from a cup on the counter and opened the book, writing a quick message: _Jane, thank you very much for your help. It was greatly appreciated._ She had a feeling that the elderly woman and her book club friends would just love that. She quickly signed under it, and then left the book on the counter and moved back to stand next to Booth, who was just finishing.

"Well, that will be all, Miss Sickle, thank you for your time."

"Oh, it was a pleasure," she answered with relish, "The FBI and my favorite author... oh what a day..." She reached eagerly forward to shake hands with both of them, and then insisted on a hug from Temperance, which she awkwardly agreed to. Booth smirked at her, and she glared over the old lady's hunched back at him.

"Well that was productive," Booth said once they were seated back in the SUV.

"What did you learn?" she asked, not fully catching onto the sarcasm.

He snorted, "That people get distracted easily by their own interests and problems. But besides that, Miss Sickle informed us that our partners in crime were dating, and that things were not smooth sailing between them. He's definitely looking guiltier, and it will give me something else to go off of once we get him in the interrogation room."

She nodded thoughtfully, but her mind wasn't on the elderly woman. It was on the fact that somebody had stolen her books _from_ the elderly woman. What on earth could they want with them? One had been signed, yes, but she wasn't sure if that was even valuable; she didn't exactly sit at home on eBay looking to see how much things she'd signed went for. She'd never even thought about it before. And besides, something made her think that whoever had robbed Miss Sickle hadn't known about the signature. After all, they hadn't taken _just_ the signed one, they'd taken the other one too. And they'd left one behind. Something seemed off about that whole thing, but she wasn't going to bring it up. It wasn't a logical collection of evidence and proof that had gotten her to that conclusion, but rather a feeling. Feelings shouldn't be used by her in these situations.

Booth's phone rang as they pulled into the parking garage at the Jeffersonian.

"Yeah, Booth... great! Thanks, Don. Yup. We'll be over. Yes, she's coming with me." A pause, then, "That's none of your business." He snapped the phone shut without saying goodbye and turned to her. "They've found Lemaire; they're bringing him in for interrogation now."

* * *

**Yes, I updated early :) I might update early again for the next one. Maybe.**

**Oh, and sorry for the Twilight reference. I just thought it would be amusing if Brennan knew what it was but had to ask if Harry Potter was 'any good.' Just something I thought she would do. :)**


	6. Chapter 6

"So, Mr. Lemaire... can you explain where you were Sunday two weeks ago?"

"How am I supposed to know?" the man drawled irritably. "Can you tell exact details about where _you_ were?"

"Well _I'm_ not the one suspected of murder, so I'd suggest you think long and hard, because _you_ are."

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, interlacing his fingers and raising an eyebrow at the man across the table.

Alex leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. The arrogant sneer on his face made Booth want very much to reach out and slap him around a bit. Maybe that would change his attitude.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said in a mock innocent voice that dripped with contempt. His eyes slid from Booth's face to that of his partner, and he wished, not for the first time, that she hadn't insisted on coming in with him. The way his eyes swept over her, not focusing on her face at all, made him tense up. He snapped his fingers in the guy's face, effectively getting his attention back.

"Keep your eyes to yourself, scumbag."

He snorted and rolled his eyes, leaned back and putting his hands behind his head, propping his feet up on the table and leaning his chair back on two legs. He stared at the ceiling, ignoring the FBI agent's presence.

Booth kicked out under the table, catching one of the front chair legs with the tip of his shoe. The chair toppled backwards, spilling its occupant out on the floor.

"You can't do that, man!" Lemaire snapped, scrambling to his feet and straightening his jacket indignantly.

"Bones, did you see me do anything?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She opened her mouth, shut it, and opened it again.

"No," she answered, catching on.

He nodded, then smiled widely at their suspect. "Well, I guess you just shouldn't lean back so far, huh, Mr. Lemaire? So, where were you?"

He righted the chair and dropped into it with a huff, glaring at Bones and then turning his main hatred back to Booth, who waited patiently, keeping his face cool and clear of emotion.

"I was at a club," he stated firmly, "And I ain't seen Danii in several weeks."

"I heard things weren't going so well with the two of you. Not a very happy couple after all, huh? Things go bad between you because you didn't have common interests, or because one of you wanted a bigger share of the loot?" he tossed a few pictures across the table, straightening them out in a row. "This is the two of you, isn't it, Alex?"

He grunted noncommittally, looking at the side wall rather than the security pictures of him holding a store clerk at gunpoint while Danielle emptied the cash drawer of a small convenience store.

"You gunna arrest me, or can I go?" he asked.

"Well, seeing as you violated parole... I think some other people would like to deal with you first. I'll be back to have another chat with you later, though."

"Wouldn't count on it," Lemaire muttered.

Booth held the door open for Bones, casting one last look at their prime suspect before stepping out.

"That's it?" she questioned incredulously once they were walking up the hallway.

"One thing at a time, Bones. I know what I'm doing."

"Why did you tell me not to say anything before we went in? I could have helped, if I'd known there was so little you wanted to ask."

"I don't like the way he looked at you," Booth muttered.

"You don't like the way _anyone_ looks at me," she corrected.

"Yeah, but random guys at the grocery store, they're _interested_. This guy... I don't like it."

She sighed. "Booth, I can take care of myself. You know that."

"That doesn't mean I have to like it," he responded simply. "Or that I can control the fact that I naturally want to protect the person I love from anything that might hurt her."

She offered a soft smile at that, but didn't seem to lessen her opinion about it at all. "Just give me a chance to join in next time we interrogate someone, okay?"

"Fine," he sighed, "We'll work on that, okay, Bones?"

She thought for a moment, then nodded her head. "Sounds good. Let's get back to the lab if we can't do anything else here. I want to look over a few things before we head back the apartment for the night."

"Sure." They left the building, reached the SUV, and climbed in, for once having no argument about who was going to drive. It wasn't like it was a long distance, but Booth was glad to be behind the wheel again.

"We ordering out tonight?" she asked, wrinkling her nose slightly. They'd been eating at restaurants or the diner... or even take-out for the past week at least. It was starting to get old, never having a single meal at her apartment, Booth thought. He could understand why she disliked the idea of doing it again tonight.

"Not if you don't want to, Bones. Let's cook something, huh? What would you like?"

She chuckled. "I have no idea. How about we don't worry about it now?"

"Excellent plan."

The lab, for the most part, was empty. It was nearly five o'clock now; neither of them had realized how quickly time had gone by. They'd spent longer at the restaurant and at the apartment building then he'd thought they had.

"I wasn't expecting you two to come back," Cam informed them honestly, coming out of her office as soon as they'd climbed the stairs onto the platform.

"There's still time to do more work today," Bones responded logically.

Cam laughed softly, "Yes, I should have thought that. You're leaving soon, though, I assume?"

"Yeah," Booth answered before Bones could. "We're outta here by seven, don't worry."

She nodded, "Good. You know, since you two got together it's been much easier to get her out of here," she added to him specifically. Booth saw Bones scowl irritably. "It's nice. I used to have to have the security guards escort her out at midnight so they could lock everything down."

Bones was now ignoring them both, turning her back as she leaned over the table and began to speak with Nigel.

"How did your interrogation go?" Cam asked, stepping further away from the squints so her and Booth could have a private conversation.

"We didn't get much. But his alibi is gunna be checked; I had another agent go in and get the rest of the details on that part so Bones and I could get out of there."

She raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"I didn't like the way he looked at her," Booth growled under his breath, getting tired of repeating that statement.

"Booth, anyone would understand why you're so protective of her... I mean, God, you've got plenty of reason from past experience... but I doubt she appreciated that."

"She didn't," he muttered.

"So how are things going between the two of you anyways? I mean, it's been what? Three months now?" She dropped her voice, "Nigel told me that you had a conversation about _marriage_ earlier today."

"Sweets brought it up with her," he said through gritted teeth. "Not me. And before you ask, no it didn't go well."

"You know, Seeley, I never thought of you as the type to want to get married or spend a lifetime with someone when we were together... but with you and Dr. Brennan...."

"Don't you dare let her hear that," he warned.

"I'm not insane," she assured him. "Sweets must be awfully brave."

"Oh he is," Booth said, rolling his eyes. "That kid has more guts... and I think he's been getting more confidence since Bones has been seeing him regularly. I should go straighten him out sometime this week..."

She laughed slightly, "I'd pay to see that."

"Yeah well if he keeps bringing it up I think it's going to turn her _further_ against it rather than bringing her around to the idea..."

"So you are planning on marrying her?" she asked curiously.

He grabbed her arm and dragged her all the way off of the platform, sliding his card hastily as he went. The system barely had a chance to beep before they were down the stairs. They hadn't been very near Bones when she'd said it, and she was engrossed in the bones and her conversation with her grad-student... but there was no way he was taking _any_ risks.

"Not so _loud!"_ he snapped.

"Sorry," Cam apologized quickly. But she was grinning a moment later as she spoke again, "How do you intend to go about that?"

"I don't know! But talking about it with her clearly isn't the best route. To be honest..." he cringed, "I think I'm going to have to talk to Sweets some more. He's been meeting with her every week... he might have some insight on how to go about it that would help me. No matter how much I hate relying on that twelve-year old..."

Cam shook her head, smirking, "First Angela and Hodgins... then the two of you. If Sweets and Daisy tie the knot I'm gunna start feeling left out."

"You don't seriously think that those two are ever going to get married?"

"Well, they have been together for quite some time now."

"Yeah, but Sweets... married? Nah."

"Ever consider that the concept of Dr. Brennan married is just as strange to everyone else as that is to you?"

He scowled, "Fine, I guess you're right about that. But he's still twelve. At least Bones and I are adults."

"The way you acted dragging me over here and all frantic because you're afraid she'll hear someone say that word... very adult-like, Booth."

"Thanks, Camille."

She opened her mouth, assumably to tell him not to call her Camille, but his phone rang and cut her off.

"Booth."

"Hey, man, Lemaire's alibi checked out... we had to let him go."

He sighed and tilted his head back, closing his eyes, "Thanks, Jimmy," he muttered.

"No problem, Booth. Shifty guy, though; I've got the local police driving by his place every hour to check in. We informed him to stay available, and his parole officer dealt with him and is paying attention too, so if he takes off we'll know it. His alibi mighta checked out, but that doesn't mean he's innocent, at least not in my mind."

"Mine either. Thanks."

"No problem Booth."

He hung up and turned to Cam. "My suspect's loose," he said irritably. "Now I've gotta get more evidence to get him in again..."

"Dr. Brennan and that assistant of hers will find something. Even that Thomson's proving to be useful. We'll get whoever's responsible for this."

He nodded, but his attention was no longer on her. He was looking up at the platform, where Bones was working intently.

"Go," Cam said with a laugh. "Go on! Drag her out of here early if you must. The evidence will still be here tomorrow, and Nigel is very productive even when he's alone."

"Thanks," he said, and hurried up the steps and back over to her.

Cam watched him go, shaking her head as Booth pulled her away from the evidence table and slid her lab coat off of her. She complained slightly, but quickly gave up as he helped her into her jacket and guided her out. Yes, the two of them were quite the couple.

* * *

"You aren't serious," she complained as he dug through her refrigerator, dumping food supplies onto the counter.

"Come on, Bones, it's pasta! You can't complain about that. And we'll have fun, too."

"We have to have some vegetables," she stipulated.

"Fine. You have some leftover salad in the fridge, right?"

She scowled. "We can't just keep using my leftovers, Booth. Besides, we always end up with salad because it seems to be the only vegetarian food you can come up with." She reopened the refrigerator and began pulling out peppers, carrots, and mushrooms from one of the bottom drawers along with anything else she could find. "Stew," she said firmly. "We'll have stew with the pasta."

"Parker and I count the tomato sauce as the vegetable," he muttered as he turned on the burner and put a pot of hot water on it.

"Well I don't," she said in response as she pulled out utensils and began peeling a carrot over her trash bin. "I haven't seen Parker in a long time," she added thoughtfully as the peelings fell one after the other on top of an empty popcorn bag from a few nights ago.

"Rebecca's been restrictive lately," he muttered in agitation, opening the spaghetti box with a bit too much force. A few pieces fell on the floor. He stared at them, then sighed and put the container on the counter to bend over and retrieve them. They went in the trash with the peelings of the second carrot as he continued speaking, "She knows the two of us are dating, but she refuses to let Parker know. I've only been able to visit a few times."

She nodded, remembering the few times that he had gone to see his son on a Friday afternoon or a Saturday morning. "That's ridiculous of Rebecca, you know. Doesn't she have boyfriends around Parker?"

He hesitated, knowing that this conversation couldn't possibly enter safe territory. Right now it was heading into treacherous waters. "Yeah," he decided to answer simply.

"And she knows me; Parker knows me. Tell her you want Parker next weekend, and if she says no I'll make her change her mind." He almost laughed at the menacing tone in her voice, but he couldn't. Not under the circumstances of the situation they'd now gotten into.

"I'll call her and suggest it," he answered calmly.

She nodded, finishing with the second carrot and placing it next to the first. She started chopping them into slices.

"Does she have a problem with me?" Bones asked suddenly a moment later, frowning as she looked away from the vegetables, the knife halfway through a pepper. She stared at him with concern in her eyes, and he couldn't lie to her.

"She's being difficult," he answered, which was the truth.

"But it's because of me. Booth, don't stay here if it means not seeing your son!"

"Bones, I'm not going to leave you because Rebecca doesn't want Parker..." he trailed off, groaning internally.

"Why doesn't she want Parker around me?" she asked, her tone emotionless. The knife now lay forgotten next to the half-cut pepper.

"Because of what happened," he whispered, hating that he had to bring it up. "She was understanding at first, but she didn't want Parker... you know, I really don't know what she expected exactly, but she was worried how it would affect him or whatever..."

"I'm not going to act any differently around your son because of what happened to me," she said, sounding almost confused.

"Yeah, I know that, Bones. And then I had to tell her I moved in with you, because I'm living here now after all, and she didn't like the idea of him being around his dad and his girlfriend together," he muttered bitterly. "And I might have understood if it was someone else, because Parker never really spent time with me and a date. But it's _you_, not someone like..." he attempted to remember a former girlfriend's name. None were coming to mind very readily; he realized he hadn't really dated at all after meeting Bones.

"Tessa," she supplied for him.

"Yeah, her," he said, nodding his head as the face and the name fit together in his mind. "The point is that she dates all the time. She's been dating this one guy for like six months or something. Mark or whatever. Parker seems to get along with him pretty well, too." He added the last part grudgingly, not liking it one bit.

"Maybe she's afraid that you might attempt to get custody if you got married. Which of course is preposterous, because she clearly doesn't know the situation very well."

"Yeah," he said, mostly because it felt like had to say something. His mind was spinning with what she'd just said. Bones had hit upon something without even really trying... Rebecca, being the way she was, might very well have assumed that it could happen, just as he always feared she might get married and take Parker away with his new step-father. He barely avoided cringing visibly at that last idea. But Bones' idea... it made a lot more sense, especially given that it had been three months, than his other theories about why she was suddenly so guarded did.

Bones had gone back to cutting vegetables, and he turned his attention back to the pasta, going to her spice cabinet and pulling out what he needed without too much trouble. He'd labeled the bottoms and was pretty sure she hadn't noticed. It had made cooking in here a whole lot easier, for him at least.

"We have wine, right?" he questioned as he seasoned the now boiling water filled with cooking spaghetti.

She nodded, pulling out another pan and filling it with water. She put it on one of the larger burners and waited for it to start boiling, loading the remainder of the vegetables which she hadn't chopped up back to the fridge.

"I'll be right back," he promised, and then he headed to the main room where he took out his cell, dropped heavily onto the couch, and dialed his ex's number.

"Hello?" answered a voice that was not Rebecca. Nor was it Parker.

"Is Rebecca there?" he asked, skipping any greetings he could have offered.

"Oh, it's Booth, right? Yeah, hold on a sec..."

The next voice was the one he was looking for. "Seeley," she said as a way of greeting.

"Rebecca," he answered calmly. "Listen, Parker-"

She sighed heavily into the phone. "Seeley, this really isn't the time to discuss this. We were in the middle of dinner, and Mark is taking Parker to a baseball game Saturday, so don't even bother with what you were going to ask."

"Yeah, that's great. I really appreciate that your boyfriend is spending so much time with my son. Rebecca, I want to see him, okay? Just... either this weekend _after_ the baseball game, or the weekend after. But I think I deserve some time. He's my kid, too, you know."

"You're still living with Dr. Brennan?"

"Yes, I am. That has nothing to do with it. Parker and her get along great; you can't deny that."

There was a tense silence. He really hated having arguments like this with her, even if they were technically negotiations. They always felt like a fight, despite the fact that there were no raised voices and no insults from either side. Just stubbornness that led to bitterness on both ends.

"Fine. This weekend. Mark will drop him off at your girlfriends after the game; it should be around four or so. I'll come pick him up first thing Monday."

"Thank you," he said sincerely. "I really do appreciate it."

"Yeah, you're welcome," she responded, but with hardly any enthusiasm in her tone. He didn't feel like getting into another talk about why he should get to have Parker and why Bones was no different... scratch that, she was _better_... than any boyfriends she'd had their son around over the past few years... so he said his goodbyes and hung up, returning to the kitchen.

"So Parker's coming this weekend?" she asked. She was standing leaning against the counter with her hands spread out along the length of it.

"You heard all of that?" he questioned, feeling his eyebrows shoot up. He hadn't realized she would be able to catch every word he said when he was in the other room.

She nodded, but didn't seem bothered at all. He quickly went over the conversation he'd just had in his head, making sure that nothing from his half had been hurtful in any way, or would lead her to assume Rebecca had been unkind in her favor while they'd spoken.

"You're... I mean, that's okay with you? I'm sorry, I should have asked; it is your apartment, and I-"

"No, Booth, it's great," she cut him off. He saw a sparkle in her eyes that told him she wasn't lying, and a soft smile on her lips. "I told you I hadn't seen Parker in a while; I'm glad you're going to get to spend some time with him. So he's coming here... is Rebecca going to tell him we're dating, or are you going to?"

Oh, right. They hadn't discussed that on the phone. "I'm actually not sure... but we'll address it when we get to it, I suppose. Knowing Parker, he'll probably think it's cool."

"Really?" she asked, her expression changing to a confused frown. "I thought he disliked his mother's boyfriends usually. Doesn't the same apply to the other parent dating?"

"Yeah, but it's.... _you_. There's a difference."

"How so?"

"He... likes you. And he already knows you." He left off that Parker had questioned him a year or so ago about if the two of them were dating... and he'd actually expressed disappointment at the quick answer from his father of 'No.'

She had a thoughtful look on her face, and she had just opened her mouth to speak, when they both jumped and ran to the stove as the water from the pasta pot began to boil over.

He laughed as they bumped into each other; she grabbed the pan and put it on a back burner as he reached around her and turned the red hot one off.

The conversation was effectively ended as she attended to the stew and he pulled out plates and bowls for their rather different assortment of food. A few minutes later they were seated opposite each other at her table, each with a small plate of seasoned pasta, a bowl of vegetable stew, and a glass of red wine.

"This is good," he said, pointing at his bowl with his spoon while he chewed on a mouthful of vegetables.

She chuckled, "Don't sound so surprised, Booth. They're all organic vegetables, so they're better for you, too."

He decided to derail that conversation before she could go back to the whole alligator thing. "How about the pasta?" he asked.

"It's actually pretty tasty," she said with a nod, putting some more into her mouth.

"Actually? Now who sounds surprised?"

She kicked him under the table.

"Hey!" he cried in mock hurt. She smiled at him, her eyes glowing with amusement. He couldn't help but grin back, and then they were both laughing.

As they ate they got into several conversations, eventually reaching a debate over salad vs. macaroni and cheese, which Booth ultimately won using plenty of flattery towards her cooking abilities for the latter. He grinned triumphantly as she sighed and let the discussion drop.

The empty dishes sat in front of them, and the only thing that was keeping them at the table was the conversation and the glasses of wine. Booth stood up first and collected the plates, dumping them in the sink. He'd take care of those tomorrow; right now there were other things they could do.

"Movie time!" he said, pulling her out of her chair and dragging her to the other room while she cried out half-hearted complaints about needing to sleep or do paperwork.

She scowled at him while he dug through the extensive collection of DVDs in her cabinet, all of them his, of course. He'd brought over everything he owned and bought a bunch more after moving in with her.

"What to watch, what to watch..." he muttered, running a finger over the titles. "Hey, Bones, come on, come pick one out."

She sighed and then came to crouch next to him. "Booth, I really don't care. Just pick one that you like, and preferably not something that is so historically inaccurate that it has no point."

"Harry Potter!" he crowed, spotting the title and remembering their conversation from earlier.

"Aren't there seven of those?" she asked warily, clearly worried that he intended to start a marathon or something.

"Five," he corrected. "On DVD at least. There's gunna be eight movies; they're splitting the seventh one... but the sixth just came out... you know what? We'll watch all of these and go see it next week in the theater!"

She gave him a skeptical look, but he ignored it.

"It's practically a criminal offense to watch the movies and have no knowledge of the books... ruins it, I think, but I'll let it slide. The first two are pretty accurate as far as the books go anyways... so it shouldn't be too bad... and you're a fast reader anyways, now aren't you, Bones?"

"What are you talking about?" she asked, giving him a worried look.

He grinned. "Well, Bones, I happen to own all seven books. I'll pick them up tomorrow and you can start reading."

"Booth!" she complained. "I don't have-"

"You have plenty of time," he cut her off. She glared at him, but he knew she wasn't actually angry. He slid the disk into the player and then pulled her back to the couch and sat down, easily sliding his arm around her and pulling her up against him. God, he loved being able to do that.

She was still tense with irritation, but as the movie started she gave in and relaxed into his side. He hummed along with the music, which earned him a raised eyebrow, so he refrained from quoting the lines, having seen the movie an innumerable number of times with his son so that he knew it well enough by now.

He glanced at the clock when the ending credits started, and saw that it was nearly eleven o'clock. She looked in the same direction as well and then turned to give him a penetrating stare that very clearly said, 'I'm not going to get enough sleep now. It's your fault.'

"So, what did you think?" he asked cheerfully, ignoring the look.

She sighed and gave up with the glare. "Fine, I enjoyed it. There, are you happy?"

"Very," he replied with a wide grin. "So it wasn't too unrealistic for you?"

"A bit, but you have to apply it to the boundaries of its own setting. If there was indeed magic, which there is not, then it stands quite strongly in a reasonable structure. And clearly the storyline was quite original, although influenced by other magic myths of the past, such as the use of wands, and how they-"

"No thanks, Bones, I don't need the movie picked apart. Just... enjoy it for what it is. Pretend it could all happen in the real world. Makes it more fun."

She stared at him for a long moment as if trying to figure out if he was serious or not, but finally she gave a slight nod, and then stated very firmly, "We are going to sleep now. And don't you dare complain to me tomorrow morning when I wake you up at seven."

"I won't," he promised.

She just shook her head at his comical smile, and then headed to her bedroom to get changed into her sleepwear. He headed to the bathroom to do the same; it was their usual routine, only a bit later than usual.

When he got out of the bathroom and headed into the bedroom he found that she was already asleep, barely under the covers with her hair spread out on the pillow. She'd left the light on, but had somehow managed to drift off even with it shining directly on her face. He stayed by the door for a minute, just watching her breathe slowly in and out, her face empty of emotion, totally relaxed. Sometimes he really wished she could see herself through his eyes, so that maybe she'd grasp it a little firmer... all those little reasons why he adored her. She still couldn't really see it, even after all this time, he realized. Today had been a clear sign of that.

She had seriously believed him when he'd teased her about being more normal. Didn't she get that he loved her _exactly _the way she was? He sighed, shaking his head at her still form, totally oblivious in sleep and awake even though he was working so hard to make her figure it out.

His mind went to what he'd been thinking about an awful lot lately. Angela and Hodgins were off on their honeymoon; they were happy and married and enjoying every minute of it. They'd had their rough patches, he remembered the long stretch of awkwardness at the lab while they slowly got used to not being together and not being really sure how to interact anymore, but they'd gotten through, same as he and Bones had with their challenges.

The image of the little house and the kids in the yard hadn't faded. It was getting stronger with every passing moment he spent with Bones. Angela and Hodgins could have that now... and he wanted it too. She still seemed to be against the idea of getting married though, even if she never came right out and said she didn't want to marry him. She always referred to the topic as 'the idea of marriage' or when it involved him like it had when she'd said why Rebecca might be keeping Parker from him, 'if _you_ got married.' She never referred to herself, even objectively, and it worried him.

Maybe he wasn't going the right route with her, by seeing their relationship in the future as a married couple. She might get really offended if he asked her, or she might even get angry with him and think he didn't know her well at all...

The age old fear that had always eaten at him before she even knew he loved her came tumbling back to the forefront of his mind... the concept of losing her by making one mistake, by scaring her and making her panic and flee. Surely she wouldn't do that, not now, but his brain wouldn't let it go. The fear was there, and it was very real.

He'd been intending to take this very slowly and very delicately, but suddenly he had an urge to just forget it altogether. To just do what Bones wanted and go along with her concept of marriage being an antiquated ritual or whatever. Then they could be together and he wouldn't have to worry about losing her.

He walked on tiptoe around the bed and climbed in next to her, sliding himself under the covers and pulling them more snuggly around her before sighing softly and dropping his head onto the pillow.

If he'd already gotten a ring he knew that right now he'd be twisting it between his fingers, debating, but seeing as he hadn't even taken that initiative yet, that wasn't much of an option. He opted for putting both arms behind his head and frowning at the ceiling instead.

Surely she could be brought around to the idea... they'd come a long way after all, especially her. And... if he proposed then maybe he could finally make her understand just how much he loved her. Maybe she'd be able to get the concept that he wanted to be with her forever, no matter what. Marriage just happened to be the best way he had to show it.

She made a sound in her sleep, and his attention immediately went to her. She rolled over, facing him now, and snuggled her face into the pillow, an arm reaching out unconsciously towards him and resting on top of the comforter between them.

He smiled softly at her, reaching out to brush a finger gently down her cheek. He pressed his lips to her forehead.

"Goodnight, Bones," he whispered, and then reached over and shut the light off.

* * *

**If it isn't totally obvious, I've recently seen Harry Potter 6 and started rereading all the books. Oh, and I know that it wouldn't still be in theaters since this is a few months in the future from now at the moment... but let's pretend :) And they aren't going to go see it anyways, so it's not like it matters a ton. You'll see why pretty soon.**

**So what did you think? And let me know how you think I should be updating in the future. I've been writing these a lot faster now, so I'm not sure if you'd still like one a week so I can get further ahead, or if you want me to update every four days, or if you want to do it on that number of reviews thing some people do.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Yes, this chapter is a bit shorter. Sorry about that.**

* * *

"You let me sleep in!" she accused irritably.

"By ten minutes," he retorted, "And believe me I wanted to let it be an hour. You have no idea how peaceful you look when you're sleeping. I should take a picture sometime."

She stared at him and then rolled her eyes before hurrying off to get the rest of her morning routine finished. Sometimes he could be so ridiculous. But... she had to admit the extra ten minutes had probably made a difference. Yesterday had been such a long day, and exhausting, but to add on that movie going till eleven... she didn't even remember climbing into bed.

"Here," he said, handing her a muffin as she went past him.

"Thanks," she mumbled through a bite of it. "Where did you get this?" she added.

"Grocery store," he said with a shrug. "See, me doing the shopping has its upsides."

"Yeah, and it also means I have to go shopping _again_ later in the week because you don't get half the things I usually do."

He grinned and she scowled, but she had to admit the muffin was very good.

She made to grab the keys off of the side table as they headed for the door, but he somehow beat her to them. "No way, Bones; I'm driving today."

She put her hands on her hips, but he didn't pay attention and instead held her apartment door open for her. She sighed and stepped out with him following. She didn't protest as she climbed into the passenger seat, knowing that he probably deserved to drive today and that it would be the argument he would use. Or he'd tell her that she was too tired, which would be true since when she'd last glanced at herself in the mirror she had looked quite far from being awake. And that had been after a shower, which was what usually woke her up completely in the mornings so that she could focus and be alert at work.

"So are you going to re-question Lemaire today?" she asked, fully intending to inform him that she was coming along and she was helping no matter what he had to say about it. Instead he sighed, his brow creasing and his features suddenly taking on an agitated look.

"No. They had to release him yesterday. He was at the club he said he was at all night, and apparently he arrived at least an hour before the landlord said he last saw her. Since we don't have any other solid evidence to hold him on, he got a date for a parole hearing and was sent back to his place where they'll be monitoring him. We don't have a credible reason to re-interrogate him, though, unless we get more proof tying him to it."

"Oh," she said, knowing that it sounded inadequate. "Well, Dr. Thomson will hopefully have narrowed down time of death, so we can determine if she was missing for another day or several after the landlord saw her. It could still be Lemaire; we just need more proof."

"Good," he said with a nod. "He any good as an entomologist, anyways?"

She nodded grudgingly, "I can't deny that he is very skilled in his field."

"Well that'll help us at least," he responded under his breath. "You know, I hate to say it, but I think I miss your other squints. Never thought I'd say it was a shame not to have Hodgins around."

She smiled at him, picking up on the slightly teasing tone to his voice. He still liked to claim he didn't get along with or like some of the squints, but she knew he thought of them as family almost the same way that she did. He grinned back, obviously seeing that she understood he was joking a bit.

They arrived at the Jeffersonian a few minutes later, and both of them entered the building together, nodding greetings to the security guards and then splitting up.

"I'm gunna go interrogate that Thomson," Booth said, "See if there's any reason for me to make some phone calls."

She nodded and turned towards her office to go drop her bag off, get her coat, and check her emails. She was just sitting down at her desk, her computer humming to life as she did up the last button on her blue coat, when Booth entered. He didn't knock, which was not at all unusual.

She clicked to open her inbox and then looked at him expectantly.

"Thomson says death occurred sometime _after_ Sunday," he reported.

"So are we going to go pick him up?"

"What? No, Bones! I already called for a search warrant to look for your twine or whatever, and you aren't coming. I'm gunna arrest him, but until he's locked up nice and tight you aren't tagging along, got it? The guy's a criminal, remember? We don't have proof that he murdered Danielle, not yet, but we _do_ know that the two of them were working together to rob stores and such. He probably did kill her, and... just stay here, okay?"

"No," she said firmly, setting her jaw in irritation. She glanced at her computer screen as the emails popped up.

"Bones, listen, you can help me out in the interrogation room, alright, but I told you I don't like-" he broke off, clearly seeing that she wasn't listening to him. Her attention was focused completely on the computer screen, and the email from her publisher informing her that she needed to work on the next book and that she had a book signing in two weeks.

"Book signing..." she muttered, frowning at the words as the pieces fell together.

"What?" Booth asked, clearly confused. But she didn't look up or answer him.

What he'd just said, about Danielle and Lemaire working together to steal...

Stolen books... signed book her niece got her... sitting on a shelf one floor down...

"Booth!" she gasped, "They robbed the old lady in that building! We have to get back to that apartment... I have to see... I have to check the copy of that book..."

"Whoa, Bones, what are you talking about?"

"That old lady whose books were stolen when someone broke into her apartment! They never left the building! Remember, in Danielle's apartment, there was a bookshelf, and she had my books!"

"You aren't serious," he said, staring at her with his mouth open. She could see from the look on his face that he was piecing it all together too. He knew she was right. "Come on," he said suddenly, "Let's go."

"What about Lemaire? Is anyone heading over to arrest him?" she practically yelled as she ran after him out the door of her office.

"I'll call them later; we don't have the search warrant yet, and we want to make sure it specifies books too, now...." he whipped out his phone as they rushed back through the lab, getting a bewildered stare from Cam, and she heard him speaking rapidly to another agent, not catching most of it as she wrenched open the door of the SUV and climbed in. Booth tossed the phone into her lap as he turned the key and they pulled out of the Jeffersonian parking garage.

"They're calling it into the judge," he informed her as they turned the corner. "They'll alter the warrant so we can take any books we find once we make sure you're right and there really is a signature in that other book."

She just nodded, staring out the window as they drove too fast towards the apartment building.

Hashly let them in, looking thoroughly confused as they rushed past him up the stairs. Booth used the key he'd given them last time, and she hurried past him, yanking on gloves as she went, and took out the books.

"Signed," she said, pointing to the first page of the latest book. She scanned the rest of the shelf. "These are probably _all_ from robberies..." she murmured, scanning through them. "Odd thing to take as a souvenir..."

"Yeah, but I've seen weirder," Booth commented grimly.

She pulled out evidence bags and slid both of the books into separate ones. "I'll bet you can find both of their prints and Ms. Sickle's on these," she said with a raised eyebrow.

Booth's phone was ringing, having been returned to his pocket on the way to the apartment building. He yanked it out and pressed it to his ear.

"Gotcha. Thanks. Yeah, meet us there." He snapped it shut and re-pocketed it. "Come on," he said, heading for the door. "A team's coming over here to get the evidence and anything else; they'll check for prints. Leave those on the counter."

She nodded, placing the bags next to each other, and then they hastily locked up and hurried back out once more.

"Telling you to stay in the SUV isn't going to work, is it?" he said through slightly gritted teeth. She shook her head at him, and he sighed. "Okay, Bones, but... be careful, okay? We don't know what this guy might be capable of."

"I'll be careful," she promised, but she knew that she would disregard that if something came up to change the situation. If she had to, she would certainly grab anything she could use as a weapon and use it against Lemaire should he try to attack her or Booth. "We do have backup, right?"

"Yeah, a team's on the way. We've got the warrant, not that we need it with probable cause and the chance that this guy is gunna try to make a run for it rather than stepping out and letting us take him..."

It wasn't a long distance to Lemaire's apartment, but the fifteen minutes was tense and mostly silent. It was clear Booth didn't want her there, and yet he'd let her come along and now he was going to deal with the consequences. She was fine with that, but it was frustrating, with him clearly worried more about her than anything else. This shouldn't be any different than any other arrest. Booth was just taking it way more seriously because the guy had looked at her in a way he disliked, and although none of their murderers from other recent cases over the last three months had gotten him this agitated, it didn't change that she was able to take care of herself. And they were about to close another case; they had a good deal of evidence already, and they were going to find more at Lemaire's apartment. He should be glad they were reaching the end of yet another mystery.

"Here we are," Booth said, pulling the SUV up to the curb in front of a very small, dilapidated house that was overgrown with bushes and weeds so that it was barely visible. "Okay, you stay _behind_ me, you got that, Bones?"

She just nodded, knowing that would be the simplest thing to do, rather than starting an argument over it.

They both climbed out and Booth led the way up to the door, drawing his gun carefully before rapping on the wood and calling out, "Open up, FBI!"

There was silence, and he banged again, shouting louder. Meanwhile, she'd stepped off of the front stairs and was peering in one of the windows, frowning into the darkness.

"He's in there," she informed her partner, who turned and immediately gestured for her to get back over to him.

"Bones, I said _behind_ me. Not way over there," he hissed.

"Yeah, but I could see someone moving around inside. I think he's ignoring you."

"Really?" Booth muttered, banging on the doorframe. "Mr. Lemaire! Open the door now; we know you're in there!" A pause while they listened... and then Booth swore. "Told you so," he hissed as she realized that the sound they'd just heard was running footsteps. Then he threw his shoulder into the door. It easily flew open, given the terrible state it and the rest of the house were in, and Booth pointed his gun around quickly before rushing through towards where they'd heard the sound coming from. She followed behind him, looking around warily, but mostly searching for evidence or signs of the weapon that might have been used to kill Danielle.

There was shouting from the adjoining room, and she moved towards the door, suddenly concerned that Booth might need help, even though he had a gun.

And then she was suddenly knocked over as a shape came hurtling out of the darkness into her. She instinctively caught herself on the edge of a counter and spun around, kicking out and making contact as the person tried to rush to the front door. Booth came hurtling in just as the man dove to the side, once again bringing himself close to her. She lashed out, but he ducked. It was too dark to see exactly what was happening, but the light that was filtering in through the open door was slowly adjusting her vision.

Something swung at her from the side, and she blocked it with a raised arm, wincing as she realized it wasn't a fist or a foot, but rather a blunt object. It knocked her slightly off-balance, but she steadied herself and avoided a second attack. Booth, she suddenly realized, was clutching his face, and she saw blood. He'd been punched in the nose during his earlier confrontation in the other room... probably surprised after stepping into the further darkness in search of Lemaire...

She stepped backwards and realized she was up against a wall, her side pressing into a wooden rack hanging just barely on what appeared to be a single rusty nail. A glint of metal told her that there were kitchen knifes hanging on it, and she grabbed one.

Suddenly, it was very bright, and she lost complete sight of everything. A moment later she felt a foot slam into her leg, and she lashed out, but a second blow knocked her off balance. She felt the rack give way as she hit it with her shoulder, and then she hit the ground and it crashed down on top of her, knives and all.

* * *

**My knowledge of law enforcement is limited to crime shows. And I'm horribly lazy when it comes to research. Anything that looks like an accurate fact is probably not. **


	8. Chapter 8

"Bones!" he shouted in alarm. She slammed into the ground and he barely saw her raise her hands in front of her face before the shelves hit her and the clattering of metal shook the kitchen.

Lemaire was running; taking off towards the door. His mind was torn between making sure Bones was alive and stopping the guy that had just hurt her. But Lemaire was already out the door, and he didn't have much of a choice. There was no way he was taking off and chasing the guy to who knew where while the woman he loved lay there on the ground and he didn't know the extent of her injuries.

He ran to her side, his hands hesitating as he tried to figure out what to do first... he needed to get the rack off of her... but the knives laying strewn on the floor, which had been _on_ the rack... the other ones might be cutting her...

She stirred slightly and he heard a moan murmur through her lips.

"Bones," he said desperately, feeling just a bit of relief at the sound, "Bones, can you hear me?" He carefully lifted the rack off of her body as slowly as he could, just waiting for any signs of extra distress or pain from her. There were none, and when he had it lifted off of her he slid it to the side and out of his way.

"Oh God..." he gasped. "Bones! Bones, stay with me!" There was blood coming from multiple places... and there was a knife sticking out of her arm and a large gash across her forehead. The front of her shirt was ripped and he had to assume she'd been cut there as well. She was staring at him, but her eyes were more looking through him.

"Hang on, Bones..." he murmured, fumbling for his cell phone and hastily calling it in.

He gave the details, and was relieved to see that there were FBI vehicles out front now. He hadn't noticed them pull up because he'd been so focused.

Jimmy appeared in the entrance, and trained his gun on him. He immediately lowered it as he realized who it was, and stared in shock before turning and shouting out the door.

"Lemaire took off running!" Booth shouted to him, and he nodded and relayed the information while he turned his focus back to his partner. "Easy, Bones... you're going to be fine..."

"Booth," she choked out, lifting her head slightly and then immediately letting it fall back again, wincing.

"I've got you," he said reassuringly. "Help's on the way. Just stay with me, you got that?"

He'd let this happen. She shouldn't have come in with him at all. He should have made her stay behind at the apartment, the thought came to him in a flash. Why hadn't he done that? She should have stayed to protect the evidence and meet the FBI team when they arrived. She could have helped them... he could've used that as an excuse for her to not come along for the arrest...

He should have kept her safe. Even when they'd gotten here, he should have been paying all of his attention to her rather than pursuing Lemaire through the house so he couldn't escape out the back...

There was nothing to do now, though, as he carefully stroked her cheek and murmured comfort to her, reminding her again and again that he loved her and that she had to stay with him. He couldn't bear the thought of losing her... but he wasn't going to, he reminded himself. She was going to be fine...

"We've got Lemaire," Don informed him a short while later. "And the ambulance is nearly here."

He just nodded, "Thanks," he said, barely able to get the word out.

By the time the paramedics arrived, she'd lost her fight and slipped into unconsciousness. He stood by helplessly as they loaded her into the back, and then climbed in next to her, not caring if he was allowed to do so or not. He was beyond listening to anything anyone had to say unless it regarded her condition.

-

An hour later saw him pacing the waiting room, feeling incredibly frustrated.

"What happened?" a voice asked him worriedly, and he turned to see Cam hurrying towards him. He stopped his pacing and dropped tiredly into a chair. She stood next to him, waiting with a concerned frown.

"Bones is... somewhere," he muttered, "A rack of knives landed on her. And the damn hospital staff won't tell me a thing."

Cam sat down carefully beside him. "I'm sure she'll be fine," she attempted to reassure him. "She's been through worse."

He snorted, "No kidding," and then buried his face in his hands and let out a long sigh. He would give anything to trade places with her right now... he'd been in the hospital plenty of times, and he'd take surgery over this torture of not knowing if she was okay any day. As long as he knew she was safe, he'd suffer through pretty much anything.

But he didn't have that option, and so here he was, trapped in the waiting room, with nothing to keep his mind off of his fears. The usual thoughts were racing through his mind... what was taking so long? Surely they should have something to tell him by now? Why wasn't anyone coming to inform him she was awake and ready to see him? And he better not hear any of that 'family only' crap, because he was her boyfriend now and he was pretty sure that ranked higher than his old status of not really sure what he was, only that he cared more about her than anything else. The word partner hadn't gotten him very far. Boyfriend should do better.

Finally he saw the promising sight of a nurse headed in their direction, and he sprung immediately to his feet, staring at her expectantly.

"You're waiting for Temperance Brennan, correct?"

"Yes," he answered tensely.

"Ms. Brennan lost a lot of blood, but she's currently stable. We've had to do several transfusions. She's doing very well, though; if you'd like to see her she's awake now."

"Yes, I would," he said immediately.

"Give me a call to let me know how she is later, if you have time," Cam said with a smile and a nod. He offered a grin back, his relief incredibly tangible. She left, probably headed back to the Jeffersonian to report the news to Nigel and anyone else who might need to know, and he turned and hurried after the nurse, eager to see her and prove to himself that she was indeed okay. Words were one thing, but being able to hold her and speak to her was another.

"Not long," the nurse told him as they stopped in front of a door. "She needs to rest."

He nodded and brushed past her, pulling open the door and slipping inside. He didn't really care what the nurse had to say about rest. If Bones told him she wanted him to stay, he was staying. That was how it was going to work.

She was lying in the bed, her head propped up on a thick pillow. Her eyes had been closed, but as he shut the door behind him they slid open and focused on him. Immediately a soft smile spread across her features, and he resisted the urge to run to her and pull her into his arms. Instead he swiftly crossed the room and dragged the chair over so that it was facing the bed and right beside her head. He dropped into it and smiled back at her, stroking a finger gently down her cheek.

"You scared me," he whispered.

She closed her eyes, "I'm sorry," she murmured back, "I'm so sorry."

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. "You're alive, Bones," he murmured, his face mere inches from hers, and her eyes staring deeply back into his so that he felt almost lost within them. "That's all that matters to me. That I didn't lose you."

"How close was it?" she asked, glancing from him down to her bandage wrapped stomach and arm, and the tubes she was still hooked up to.

"I don't even know," he said softly, "But I was scared, Bones, I can tell you that. It was my fault. I should never have let that happen..."

"Booth, you can't control everything... and you certainly can't control me. There was nothing you could have done differently, believe me. If anything, I should have reacted faster."

"They got him," he said suddenly, realizing she wouldn't know. "He's in custody."

"They?" she asked with a frown.

He glanced away. "Bones, you were lying on the floor under a set of wooden shelves with _knives_ all over the place. He bolted out the door... I couldn't follow him. I couldn't leave you. I just... _couldn't_. I had to make sure you were okay."

She nodded slowly, then bit her lip, "Sweets is going to have something to say about that."

"Then let's not tell him," he answered simply. That was the easiest solution, after all.

She laughed softly, and he relaxed at the sound, feeling the relief shoot through him once more. If he hadn't gotten to hear her laugh ever again... he didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think about any of that, anything that involved losing her.

"Did all the evidence get gathered?" she asked suddenly, "Did you find the murder weapon?"

He winced, "Yeah, it was sticking out of your arm," he muttered. "The handle was wrapped in twine because it was damaged. You were right."

She just nodded thoughtfully.

"I _should_ have listened to you," she said finally, her voice barely a whisper and her eyes not meeting his.

"What?"

"I should have stayed behind you. If I had... well, I might not be in here right now. We could be sitting back at the apartment eating Thai and doing the paperwork for this case."

"Does this mean you're going to start doing what I tell you to do?"

She smiled slightly, "No. But... sometimes I should defer to your expertise and keep myself a bit safer. Don't you think?"

"Yes, I do," he answered seriously.

"It's just... what you said when you came in here, that I scared you... I don't want to do that to you. And then you start blaming yourself, and I know you'd do that, too, if I died, even if it wasn't your fault at all. I don't want you to have to live with that." She tilted her head to the side thoughtfully, "And I want to stay with you, too, so that works."

He chuckled and pressed his forehead against hers. "I'm glad you're seeing reason, Bones."

"But just because I'm going to listen to you doesn't mean you don't have to listen to me, or that you can leave me out completely, you got that?"

"Of course."

She looked around the hospital room, then back down at herself, and finally back to him. "When can I get out of this place?" she asked.

He laughed, "That's my Bones. I'll go find a doctor or a nurse or _somebody_ and demand to know. Be right back." He kissed her again, pulling away regretfully after a long moment and leaving the room with one last smile thrown over his shoulder.

* * *

**Sorry for the delay in getting this one up. I was going to make it longer... but then I decided it was good the way it was. But I've been distracted lately by my other story (which I shouldn't have started while in the middle of another project). I'll try to get more of this up soon, though. :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Okay, sorry I haven't updated in a week. I haven't been in a writing mood recently, unfortunately. I'm going on vacation shortly, but I'll try to have another one up before I leave. **

* * *

"Okay, Sweetie, what happened?" said a frowning-with-arms-crossed Angela from her computer screen. She winced in response and attempted to change the subject.

"Nothing, Ange. I'm fine. Why are you even talking to me? Aren't you supposed to avoid all contact while on your honeymoon?" She used her friend's words from some time ago back on her. And she got the result she wanted. Suddenly it was Ange's turn to look guilty.

"Hodgins is getting me some breakfast. We have a computer here... and I wanted to check in on you. And look what I find!"

She knew it couldn't look very good, for Ange to be gone for only a week and this to already have happened. She was going to make her friend feel like she could never leave, if she kept this up.

"It's not as bad as it looks," she defended herself.

"Uh huh. Whatever you say, Bren," her friend responded quickly, raising an eyebrow challengingly. "Seriously, where's Booth? He must be going crazy. And where was he for..." she gestured her hands towards her, "_That?_"

She reached up self-consciously to touch the bandage across her forehead with her uninjured arm. Angela scowled, and she sighed and decided she'd better explain before Hodgins returned and found his wife in the middle of an internet chat.

"I was with Booth when it happened. We were going to arrest a suspect and he tried to get away. It got into a fight, and he turned all the lights on so we couldn't see. I fell against a rack of knives."

"A rack... of _knives_?" Ange asked in disbelief. "Are you serious? Well, of course you're serious... but, _Bren_... I mean... are you _sure_ you're okay? Just how injured are you?"

"Gash to my forehead, one cut across my chest, and apparently the murder weapon was stabbed in my arm," she quickly rattled off in a clinical tone, "But it's not really that bad."

"Angie?" Hodgins voice reached her faintly. Ange spun around, grimacing.

"Uh oh," she murmured. And then Hodgins appeared by the doorway in the background. First he was frowning in confusion, then his eyebrows flew up in surprise.

"What are you doing?" he asked, coming closer. "Dr. B?" He bent over next to Ange to give her a quick kiss, then turned his attention back to the screen. "What happened to you?" he asked, apparently more concerned about that then the fact that her face was on the computer to begin with.

"Long story," she answered hurriedly, "Listen, Ange, I'm grateful you're concerned enough to check in on me, but I'm really okay. Everything here is going fine. I'll see you both when you get back... so enjoy yourselves and stop worrying about me." She gave Hodgins a smile, waved quickly to Ange, and then cut off the connection.

"Was that Angela?" Booth's voice came from the entrance to her office. He was holding two steaming cups of coffee, and staring at her computer, which was now on the default Jeffersonian screen.

"Yeah... Thanks," she added, taking the cup once it was offered to her. She sipped the warm and soothing drink gratefully.

"Um... isn't she, you know, on her honeymoon?"

She just nodded tiredly in response, leaning back in her chair and taking a few more sips.

He chuckled softly, which earned him a hurt glance. "Sorry," he responded hastily. "It's just so typical of her. And I can just _imagine_ what she thought when she saw you." At this he grimaced slightly. "Did you explain to her? Please tell me you did, or she might just pack up and come home immediately."

"Yes, I explained," she said irritably. Today wasn't off to the greatest start, and she was annoyed that the first time she'd seen her best friend in a while had been upsetting rather than enjoyable.

He nodded and averted his eyes. She took another drink from the coffee and focused her gaze on the corner bookshelf. Things weren't exactly... perfect between them currently. He didn't want her out on cases with him while she recovered, and she'd started a large fight over it the first day she'd gotten out of the hospital. It was reasonable, yes, that with bandages on her head and her arm she shouldn't be running around... but the way he acted was as if he didn't want her out in the field at all for longer than it took to get these darn things off. And _that_ was what irritated her beyond anything else. How many times were they going to go through this? With him being overprotective, promising not to do it again, and going back to it the second one thing went wrong and he decided to change his mind? They weren't going to be able to keep going on like this if it was just going to be a continuous cycle. She wouldn't let this happen.

He was currently sleeping in her spare bedroom, even though she hadn't asked him to, and neither of them had mentioned it. Both of them were pretty much attempting to just let it pass, she realized. That was something else she couldn't let happen. Problems had to be addressed, or they'd get worse. She knew that.

And Parker's visit to the apartment had been cancelled, seeing as she'd gotten released from the hospital on Sunday, and Booth had spent practically all of his time there with her. She was pretty sure Rebecca had been displeased at this... another thing that the two of them hadn't discussed. She could tell he was upset over not only not having time with his son... but mostly because he was almost certainly worried about getting _another_ time to have him for a weekend. Rebecca wasn't usually incredibly difficult about these things... but recently she knew that the situation there had been adding stress to Booth that he definitely didn't need to deal with on top of everything else.

It wasn't going to be able to last much longer, and as much as she didn't want to be the one to break the lengthy silence... she knew she had to, for him. She couldn't do the same thing she always did, and try to move on and pretend that she didn't care unless it was brought up. She cared too _much_ to be able to do that.

He'd brought her coffee today, and he'd started a conversation upon his arrival, so that was a start. It was very clearly a peace offering of sorts, even though she knew he would have done it probably anyways. He was always concerned she wasn't consuming enough food and liquid.

She breathed out a soft sigh, and immediately felt his eyes shift to her for a brief moment. Then they flicked away again. Her head turned towards him, and his gaze met hers this time, holding it. She bit her lip, and then started.

"Booth... about this past week..." He stayed silent, which was uncharacteristic of him. Usually he dove straight in and took control of the conversation, telling her his side and trying to resolve it quickly. She was almost grateful he didn't, though. It would have felt wrong, letting him do so when she felt that he was already bearing most of it. She should be the one to take the weight off of him this time. And... she knew he was so overprotective because he cared. She could see that, and she could accept it. For the most part. It was something they would have to... compromise on.

She sighed and started up again, "I know that you naturally... want to protect me." He nodded silently, his expression unreadable. "And... I can _understand_ that. I can... respect that." His eyebrows raised slightly, but other than that he gave no signs of response. "And I'm sorry that I... was so upset with you over it. It's who you are... and you wouldn't be _you_ if you didn't act like such a..." She smirked slightly, "Alpha-male," she said the term with a slightly teasing tone to it, and was relieved to see a smile spread across his face immediately. He chuckled softly, too, and she felt herself relax. But she wasn't finished, not yet. "And I'm very sorry you missed your weekend with Parker," she added in a softer voice.

"We," he said, surprising her. _"We_ missed _our_ weekend with Parker. It's _we_, Bones, not me." She smiled tentatively, and he grinned back. "Thanks," he added. "I appreciate that. And we'll have Parker over another time, if that's okay with you."

She nodded quickly, "Of course it is, Booth. I told you before, I'd love to have your son over. I know how much you enjoy spending time with him, and it would be most convenient for him to come to where you are currently staying. I'm not going to get in the way. And... Parker is a good kid."

"Who likes you," he added, raising an eyebrow and pointing at her to emphasize the point. _"And_," he stressed the word, "Has been asking about you."

"He has?" she asked, this time her eyebrows shooting up. She hadn't known that.

"Uh-huh," he responded with a serious nod. "I called to explain to him why I couldn't see him this weekend, and he was more upset over whether or not you were okay then about the fact that he wasn't going to get to see us. And he wanted to come visit you in the hospital, too, but Rebecca told me they were busy." The last part was added bitterly.

She frowned. "You know, you should let _me_ talk to her. We've spoken before. I'll explain to her so she can rationally understand the reasoning behind why there should be no trouble at all in having Parker spend a weekend with you."

_"Us._" Booth corrected again. "And you don't need to do that. I've spoken to her, and I'll call again later, that way I can circumvent any plans she intends to make for this weekend."

"Good idea," she agreed with a quick nod. "So... um, what should we... _do_ this weekend?"

He beamed at her, clearly pleased with the new topic of discussion. "Well, Bones, what do you think we should do? What sounds fun?"

"Booth, you know that I have no idea of appropriate activities for a group of people that involves an eight year old."

She frowned at him as she saw that his excitement had vanished the moment she'd finished speaking. She'd been saying it slightly teasingly, since it _was_ something he should have already guessed at... and probably did... so she was beyond confused about why he'd suddenly look almost upset.

Then he grabbed a chair and pulled it up so he was almost invading her personal space. He leaned forward so that he actually was, and she tilted her head away a little, bewildered at the serious light in his eyes.

"Bones," he sighed, sadness clear in his tone.

"What?" she asked, shaking her head and frowning harder.

"_Family_," he said as way of a response. "Bones, it's not 'group of people involving an eight year old.' It's a _family_. You mean that you don't know any family activities."

She stared at him for a long moment, finding it hard to breathe with his face right in front of hers... and because her throat had suddenly tightened as well.

"Booth..." she started to protest, barely able to get the word out.

"Hey, listen to me, okay, Bones?" She bit her lip and turned her head away. A touch to her chin turned her head back to him, and suddenly she was flashing back to a scene from a long time ago. Apparently that was the intent, because what he said next sent a flash of recognition through her, and a faint shiver went through her. "There's more than one kind of family."

"You've said that before," she said, unable to voice any of her other thoughts. The obvious was the safest way to go.

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, Bones. Back then... back then we were a family, too. You, me, Angela, Hodgins, Zach, and Cam. Even Russ and your dad. All of us together. And now you have more than one family. You've got the squints, Bones, and you've got me. We _are_ a family."

She didn't want to say what immediately came to mind, that they weren't a family by any of the markers of society, truly, because a family was what she'd lost... her mother, father, brother, and herself, living together and doing things together... related by DNA and connected by something... that she couldn't even remember anymore.

But she couldn't say that, because did she even want that? She'd told him many times she didn't want to get married. She didn't. And they'd only been dating for a few months... if she went by the markers of normal relationships, and considered him in a time frame, then she could say they were not. She'd dated men for several months before, and she had never considered them to be a... family. No.

This wasn't some guy, though. This... this was _Booth._ Booth who'd been there for her for years, who had apparently always loved her for who she was, who didn't want anything more of her than she already was to him, and who was the one person who wouldn't leave her.

So instead of arguing, instead of making reasons and using rationality and logic to tell him why what he'd said did not fit in with the reasonable connotations... she nodded. She accepted what they were. Because they were a family. They always had been... but now they were more. Now there was another layer.

His smile reappeared, and he pressed his lips to hers warmly. When he pulled away he pressed his forehead up against hers and his hand was resting on top of hers on the edge of her desk.

"So... what are some... family activities?" she asked.

"Well... what did you do with your parents?" he asked gently. She knew he was giving her the option to not answer at all, with how he'd asked, but she decided to anyways.

She shrugged. "We went to the park sometimes... I remember this one occasion... we had a picnic." Her mind flashed back to that one, with them all laughing and joking, and her and Russ rolling around in the grass fighting over the last watermelon slice. She'd won, she remembered...

"That sounds nice," he answered calmly. "Do you think... you'd like to go on a picnic with me and Parker?"

He said it hesitantly, clearly not sure if that was a welcome idea or not, so she was quick to reassure him. "Of course. Would Parker enjoy that sort of thing?"

"Ha, you bet he would," Booth said with a short laugh. "I'll bring a football and he can show you some of the moves I've been teaching him. He'll love that."

They'd separated a bit, so she had some personal space back again, and she tilted her head to the side now, "Why?" she asked curiously.

"Because he's a kid and he... well, face it, Bones, he pretty much idolizes you. So, do me a favor, and be supportive and impressed with him, 'kay? It'll mean a lot to him."

She nodded, understanding it a bit better. But why did Booth's son want to impress her? And how on earth did he idolize her? She decided to voice the questions, to which Booth chuckled again.

"You know when your dad showed him all those cool science experiments?" She nodded. "Yeah, well he was amazed with all of it, and he thinks you're a genius. Which, you know, you are, so it's not like he's exaggerating or anything... but he just looks up to you. You know, like little kids do. Thank goodness he's into sports, or I'd say he was bound to be a squint."

"Hm," she murmured thoughtfully. There was a moment of silence between them. "Hey, Booth?" He looked at her again. "What exactly would be so horrible about your son being a squint?" she asked, a mock-indignant tone to her voice. He laughed out loud.

"I was waiting for you to nail me on that one!" He exclaimed. "Took you longer than I thought it would, too!"

Now she was laughing along with him.

Eventually she spoke up again, "What do you think he'd _be_ then, if he was to do something so horrible as become a scientist?"

Booth turned his head and stared thoughtfully into space. "Well, I can't seem him doing Angela's job... he's not into drawing stuff, although he's pretty creative with arts and crafts in school. And he hasn't really been around... you know, dead bodies... so I'm not sure about if he'd even want to work around here... It'd probably be, as much as I hate to admit it, Hodgins' job. He loves those bugs." He shivered slightly. "I don't have issues with most bugs, you know, but the way Hodgins just _looks_ at them, and _talks_ to them... it makes me really hope Parker becomes a professional football player."

"What about an FBI Agent?" she inquired, wondering why he hadn't mentioned that.

But he gave her a serious look, and the smile on her face faded away. "I love me job, Bones, you know that. But... it's a _dangerous_ job, and you know that as well as I do. I wouldn't want my son to do this anymore than I'd want to see him go into the army like I did."

"I think I get that," she said with a nod, "You want to protect your son. But... what if he wants to follow you and do what you do?"

He sighed, "I just hope that he doesn't, Bones. It's a great and honorable job, yes. I wouldn't trade my choice to become an agent for anything. Mostly because I'd never have met _you_ of course," he said, grinning briefly at her, "But also because I care a lot about what I do... about putting the bad people away. And... if Parker did go into law enforcement, I'd be proud of him. As proud as a father can be of his son. But I'd have to worry, too."

"You're a good father," she murmured to him. His eyes met hers again, and shone brightly.

"Thanks, Bones," he responded softly. Their eyes stayed connected for a long time, neither of them speaking, both lost in thought.

"Dr. Brennan," a voice interrupted them. She jumped, and saw that Booth had as well. Cam stood in the doorway of her office, glancing back and forth between them. "Sorry, did I interrupt..?"

"No, no, it's fine, you just startled us. I didn't realize I'd left the door open. What is it, Cam?" she asked.

"Right," the coroner said, "So, Nigel's just finished with the latest skeleton from Limbo, and I was thinking he might, you know... need some feedback from you." She stared back at the woman in the door with a slight crease of confusion between her eyes. "He could use some comments from his teacher, some support," she rephrased.

"Oh," she said with realization. "I'll... go look over his findings."

"Thanks," Cam told her, "Oh, and I think he's getting close to finishing his doctorate as well. Perhaps you could... offer some advice or something to reassure him?"

"I can do that," she assured her. She had been rather neglecting her grad-student for the past few days, she realized guiltily. It was probably the reason that Cam was stimulating this now, so that it didn't continue. "Will you be accepting him to work here once he has received his doctorate?" she asked as she stood up. Booth followed suit, replacing the chair where he'd found it.

"If you'd like me to, then of course I will. He works well with the team... he was lots to offer... and he's been much less annoying once he fully settled in," she added the last as almost an afterthought, a bemused smile spreading across her face. Booth chuckled at that, most likely agreeing with the assessment.

"Well, let's go cheer on your assistant then, shall we?" Booth said, a grin planted firmly across his face as he guided her towards the door. Cam shook her head at them in amusement, and then followed as they made their way up to the platform.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own the following: Bones, Harry Potter, or Lindt chocolate. There is, however, Lindt chocolate in a bag in my house... Which also is not mine. Wow, depressing, isn't it?**

* * *

It was a relief to be able to wrap his arms around her again, to not have to worry about the anger that had flared up between them so recently. He understood why it had all happened, though, and he wasn't at all blaming her for it. In fact, he was quite proud of her for speaking up first and being the one to clear the air.

Overall, it was pretty much just nice to be able to talk to her once more, relax at the diner, sit and watch television late at night... observe her facial expressions as she got closer to the end of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire while they lay side by side on the bed.

She was almost to the end of the maze, he knew, and so it wouldn't be long before she was at the graveyard scene. He was flipping through a car magazine, only glancing at it occasionally. His main focus was on her, though, and he was comforted to know that with her eyes glued to the page there was very little chance she'd catch him staring.

"You want something to eat?" he asked as the sound of a page turning reached his ears. He'd turned his attention back to the magazine for a moment.

"Sure," she said thoughtfully, her eyes never leaving the book.

"What would you like?" he asked, attempting to get a longer response out of her.

"Whatever," she muttered, that cute little frown forming as all of her attention went into the story. She seemed to have forgotten all about him a moment later, eyes flicking back and forth, reading far quicker than he probably ever could. She must be at a good part, he thought with a smirk, but didn't attempt to look over her shoulder. That had ended badly last time... apparently she didn't appreciate having someone else reading along from behind her.

He climbed out of the bed and made his way to the kitchen, his bare feet hopping quickly along from one freezing floor tile to the next. A minute later he was heading back, a wide grin plastered across his face and a bag of chocolate in one hand.

"Bones, what's this?" he asked as he leaned against the doorframe and held it up.

Her eyes stayed on the page for a moment longer before reluctantly raising to look at what he wanted her to see. His grin only widened as he watched her eyes widen and a barely noticeable blush formed on her cheeks. It vanished in an instant, though, as she frowned.

"What do you mean?" she asked, feigning ignorance. At that he had to laugh. She was an amazing actress when they were undercover, yes, but she was terrible at lying. Or maybe it was just to him that those circumstances applied.

"Oh sure, play dumb," he teased, coming over and sitting himself down on the edge of the mattress near her feet. She pulled her legs up under the covers and tucked them around her. "How long has this been hiding in that pan in the back cupboard?"

Another quick blush. "I didn't... I mean..." she sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine, I saw a Lindt store and I couldn't resist. There, happy now?"

"Yup. When were you planning on telling me about these, anyways?" he asked curiously, pulling out a truffle and deftly removing the wrapped with a quick twist. He popped it in his mouth and sighed in pleasure. "It's not nice to hide candy from someone who's living with you."

"Booth," she groaned, "This is exactly..." she leaned forward and with a flash of movement snatched the bag out of his grasp just as his hand emerged with a handful, "...why I _didn't_. You'll eat them all!"

He chuckled softly as he popped another one into his mouth and let it melt. "Come on, Bones, I'm a gentleman, of course I'd have shared with you. Seriously, though, you weren't even going to give me one?"

She rolled her eyes again, rolling a chocolate ball into her mouth and chewing it. He pulled his legs up and sat cross-legged facing her. The book sat to the side with a bookmark close to the end marking where she'd been interrupted at.

"See, I told you that you'd enjoy those," he said, nodding towards it.

"They are moderately well done," she allowed with a shrug. "The very idea of magic, though, is a complex one with the subtext and the way the plot could be questioned. For instance, if there really were time-turners, wouldn't everyone be trying to get their hands on them and stop terrible things from happening to them, so they could avoid losing people who died or keep themselves from ruining their lives? Why didn't a powerful wizard like Dumbledore receive one so that he could travel back and stop Tom Riddle before he even began killing people? With things like that, when a novel strays into the realm of non-scientific fact, there are so many ways it could be challenged or it could argue against itself in the future. Especially with such a high endeavor as seven books all linked together with specific tie-ins in between them relating all the way back to the earliest chapters to be written."

He stared at her for a moment, blinking. "Right, Bones. Thanks. I'll be sure to... remember that."

She glared at him, and for a moment he wasn't sure if she was teasing or if she was actually upset with him. "Hypothetically," she spoke up, and now her voice had lost that excited thoughtfulness it had possessed only moments ago, "If the context of the world in which this occurred applied to our own daily lives, wouldn't it make sense that one of the largest problems facing society would be the continuous alteration of the past? Yes, time travel isn't possible, and it's foolish to think otherwise, but you have to apply it in the aspect of the world the book is trying to bring its readers fully into. Booth, if you _could_ turn back time, wouldn't you be more desperate to do that, and rely on the ability to go back and rearrange rather than focusing all of your attention on what the future might hold?"

She did really have a point there, although he'd never really bothered to dig so deeply into something he read basically for enjoyment and carefree fun. "I suppose so," he said.

Her eyes were focused off to the side now, no longer meeting his gaze. "It's a complex idea," she murmured softly.

"Hey, Bones," he spoke softly, wanting to reach out to her, but holding back as he continued, "I know there are things you'd like to change... I'd like to change them too, after all. Don't be ashamed of wanting something fictional to be real. Everyone does it, everyone wishes. There's nothing wrong with that."

Her eyes slid to his again, sadness glowing in them, and a bit of worry, as though she wasn't sure he was right. So he'd been correct with his reading of her, and in assuming that she was thinking along those lines.

"Hey," he repeated as her eyes flicked away again, and this time he slid over to his usual spot, moving over a little so he was pressed against her. An arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her up against him warmly. Her head dropped easily onto his shoulder and he felt her let out a deep breath, relaxing into him. Her body shifted as she turned more on her side and her arms snaked around him as well. Her face buried more snugly into his shirt at his shoulder. Smiling softly, he rubbed a hand up and down her back. She was warm through her thin tank top, and her legs were pressed up against his as well.

Right then, he very much wanted her. It took every ounce of strength to keep his hand tracing smoothly up and down her back without any hesitation or quickness to it. He pressed a kiss to her forehead... her eyes slid closed tiredly, and he could see she was struggling to stay awake. "Sleep, sweetheart," he murmured warmly in her ear, his fingers gently stroking a few stray pieces of hair from where they'd fallen across her beautiful face.

Clearly she was more exhausted than he'd thought, because she didn't argue with him for using that title on her. Instead she just nuzzled up closer to him, getting into a more comfortable position before she finally went still, her breathing becoming gradually slower as she drifted off.

He carefully maneuvered with her against him, and set the Harry Potter book on the bedside table along with the bag of chocolates. Then he leaned back against the pillow and willed himself to relax and fall into the freedom of sleep. He wished he could fall into the cloak of night as quickly as her... he lay for far longer, loving and hating the way she was snuggled up at his side. It was comforting at the same time that it was painful. But he was in control, and she needed him to be exactly what he was to her right now... so he was content.

Eventually, several hours later, with the mocking lights on her alarm clock telling him he was certainly not going to get a reasonable number of hours in before he had to be awake once more, his eyelids stayed shut with no effort, and the darkness pulled him under...

He might have been better off suffering through the remaining hours in the conscious world, though.

* * *

"Bones?" his voice echoed, and the emptiness surrounding him was very tangible. He felt exposed, and the bewilderment was making his thoughts spin dizzyingly. It was dark... but then a light appeared as quickly as the thought came to him. He headed towards it, shielding his eyes from it's glare.

He found himself in the lab, with the light coming from above... the moon shone through the skylights. He looked around, and then headed for her office, not bothered that it was dark out. She would be there, he was certain. No one was around, and for a moment the lack of security set off an alarm in his mind, but other than that he came across no difficulty or concern as he reached her door. The office was pitch black, which was odd given the light which should have gone through the glass and lit up at least patches of it...

As he stepped in, his eyes refused to adjust, and he found that he was stepping through mist. He was on a street, and it was still the middle of the night. Not much bothered by the change in setting, he headed for a house that was familiar, his footsteps quickening and his thoughts becoming more panicked as he ran for it. But he couldn't reach it, he couldn't get to the door, no matter how many times he struggled to force himself forward faster... his legs were sinking, weren't propelling him forward... desperation was setting in, as he felt his blood racing through his veins. He didn't know why, but he needed to get to that house, he needed to go through that door...

And then he heard a lone scream pierce the night, and he could almost see her now, hands bound to the bedposts, body marred with bruises and blood drying on her chin, trails of it on her neck. Tear tracks ran all down her face... he shouted her name, screamed it to the winds that carried it away, that were sweeping him away from her... he couldn't get there, he couldn't save her.

He saw the man's face turn with cruel indifference as a hand seized for the gun... no it was a knife, with a twine handle... and he raised it. Her voice was whispering, reaching him even through the haze he was trapped in, calling out to not only her captor but to him as well, the terror in it tearing through him, making his weak legs attempt all the harder to push closer, to stop what was coming...

"Please, no... please... don't..." she begged. A cruel laugh cut her off, a cruel blade sliced down. Both silenced her, the second one forever. He shrieked her name, feeling tears on his own face... he was pulled away, the house wasn't even in his sights, but he could feel it, weighing down on him, holding him captive in every recess of his mind and his thoughts unable to twist away from it. Her face... eyes pleading... and now there was a gag in her mouth, hands bound together over her head... she lay limp, already done, gashes down her arms... dogs barking in the background...

He was in a car, the black door ahead of him mocking as he raced towards it, but dirt collapsed from above, crushing the car down, the wheels ground to a stop... refused to move. The world went dark under the weight of soil and heavy rocks. He banged on the roof, tried to break the glass even though it might mean drowning out there in the suffocating earth...

An explosion hit him, and if it was a refrigerator or a car bomb, or a gun going off, or anything really, he couldn't even tell the difference. He lay, half buried, his arms weakly hanging out, and he saw what he desperately needed laying just out of grasp... a small little hourglass on a chain... taunting him, whispering hope of something he could never have...

His fingers reached, grasped, brushed at it... and then he pulled it towards him, the relief seeping in, the hope wrapping itself around him... but it was suddenly like it was chains instead... as the little hourglass flipped over and over in his hands... and he sank deeper into the ground, one hand trying to claw himself out and the other still desperately spinning the little contraption. But it refused to work... time would not cooperate with him, would not let him into its secrets. He could not save her, he could not reach her this time once more... he had lost her... he'd lost his Bones... he'd failed her...

"Bones..." he whispered into the darkness, despite the fact he was completely alone. "Bones... Bones I'm so sorry," the words slid out one after the other, his name continuing to chant so he wondered if it was in his head, or out loud... "Bones, Bones... my Bones..."

There was a warm something pressed against him... and something hard was poking him in the ribs.

"Booth," a voice whispered. "Booth, wake up."

He jerked up, yanked from that world of terror and loss by the one voice he wanted to hear more than anything at that moment.

"Bones?" he whispered into the darkness, his heart still racing even though reality was slowly setting in and relief was beginning to get its hold on him.

There was a clicking sound, and a moment later he realized it was her turning the knob on the bedside lamp, because it came on in one brilliant blink, and he squinted against it, flashing back to his dream for a brief and horrifying moment.

But there she was, sitting up in the bed next to him, her face all scrunched up as she, too, squinted against the sudden light. Her hair was messy and going in all directions, some of it dangling down and almost touching her nose. She was leaning up against her pillow, propped up on one arm. She was still slightly touching him, but she'd moved farther away to get the light turned on, and now he was missing the contact.

As if she sensed this, she scooted back over next to him, and he sighed in relief as he wrapped his arms around her and pressed her tight up against his chest, just reveling in the fact that he could... that she was here with him...

Dream or not, the fear had been quite real.

"Booth?" she said in bewilderment as he ran his hands up and down her back, pressing his face into her hair and breathing in her sweet scent.

Finally he lightened his grip around her and she slid back a little, watching him almost warily with her eyebrows raised.

"Are you okay?" she asked in concern.

"Now I am," he said, sighing softly. A shiver passed through him as he imagined it all being real for a fleeting moment... then he sent the whole idea away, focusing on the here and now, on the fact that she was very much alive here in his arms, as gorgeous and wonderful as ever. He pulled her against him again, and she once more did not resist. But he knew he was going to have to answer the questions he saw gleaming in her eyes soon.

When he released her again, he met her gaze and just stared into it for a long moment, getting lost in the blueness that seemed to swirl at once with darker and lighter flecks of emotion and thoughtfulness.

"I never want to lose you," he whispered seriously. She continued to stare back at him quizzically, not responding or even speaking up to ask him what he was talking about. He continued softly, another shiver running through him as he said it, "Sorry I woke you, Bones. I had an... unpleasant dream."

She nodded slowly, clearly understanding what he was saying very quickly. "Do you... want to talk about it?" she asked cautiously, and he knew she was unsure of herself on this ground. She was echoing back words others, more specifically him, had said to her, hoping it would have a positive effect of comfort on him. "You know I used to have a lot of nightmares," she added when he remained silent. Oh yes, he remembered... waking up in the middle of the night to her screaming or sobbing uncontrollably... completely bewildered about what to do, what would help and what would make things worse. "I still have them occasionally," she continued, "But you helped me make them a little easier to handle. I want to help you now." The determination and concern in her tone and on her face made him smile softly at her. God, he loved her.

"I'll probably have forgotten it by morning," he said carefully, hoping she wouldn't see through the lie. He didn't want to hurt her feelings by making her think that he didn't want to talk to her when she was so ready to help him, but at the same time he really didn't want to fill her in on the details of what he'd just seen and experienced in the nightmare. He also knew he wasn't going to just forget this; it would haunt him for quite some time, of that he was dead certain.

"It _is_ morning," she answered, and he groaned inwardly as he saw the flash of hurt go across her eyes when she said it. He'd upset her by dismissing it, and he hated that. Maybe he could give vague details later, to comfort her.

His eyes sought out the clock, and they stared at the neon green numbers for several seconds before his brain even attempted to process what they meant. It was five forty-five. Well, there went all hope of getting any more rest... not that he'd have been able to sleep restfully anyways. He'd been out of it for just over five hours, and it hadn't been a refreshing sleep, but rather one that almost made him feel more tired than beforehand.

"Come on," she said, bringing him back once more to reality. He realized she was moving away from him, sliding her legs over the edge of the bed. He followed silently as they headed to the kitchen, and when she pointed to a chair he obediently sat down in it, feeling far too exhausted to really bother asking why or protesting against her orders.

He stared blankly, feeling tired but not at the same time and it was leaving him very confused. It was only a few minutes later, when the kitchen filled with the sounds of frying and the delicious smell of eggs, that he got up and went over to her. She was grinding pepper over a pan of scrambled eggs, which were already mixed with an array of vegetables and spices. He was pretty sure she'd added some cheese to the assortment as well.

"Let me help," he said, and she jumped, having not realized that he'd come up behind her. "Sorry," he said quickly, setting a hand gently on her shoulder. "Didn't mean to startle you." He reached around her and carefully removed the pepper from her grasp, setting it on the counter. He would have finished for her, but it seemed like there was already enough in the pan.

"Go sit back down," she told him with a scowl. "I'm making you breakfast."

"You don't have to do that," he protested.

"That's never stopped you from doing something for me. What's the excuse you always use? I _want_ to do it, so just let me."

He shook his head at her, slightly amused by her fiery determination over something so trivial. Then he went back to the chair, deciding that although he didn't really want her to feel she had to do this for him, she would be more upset if he continued to argue about it.

Finally she finished and sat down across from her with her own dish, placing his in front of him. His eyes widened as he took in just what lengths she'd gone to on this. Scrambled egg and fried veggies took up most of the plate, but she'd also made him toast and he even had bacon, which was the only difference between the two of their meals.

"Jeez, Bones... thanks." He dug in, eyebrows rising in amazement at the flavor. "Maybe you should cook on the side, on top of the writing and the... anthropologing."

"That most certainly is not an adjective," she corrected with a frown.

"I wasn't trying to be accurate," he said, the corners of his mouth tugging up as his eyes twinkled at her. "And besides, how else am I supposed to describe it?"

"Being an anthropologist," she said, still looking confused. He just shook his head and chuckled at her.

"Okay, Bones. But seriously, this is _really_ good. It might very well have topped the mac 'n cheese."

She seemed pleased with this comment, because he saw her eyes light up a bit more upon hearing it, and she started eating as well.

They ate in almost complete silence, the only noise being the faint ticking of her wall clock and the rhythmic tapping of his foot against a leg on his chair. A glance from her stopped that, however, and he resumed chewing on a piece of bacon, trying to think of ways to start up a reasonable conversation... one that wouldn't involve discussing how slow work was lately, or the weather... or something else equally bland and boring. He was just about to ask her about Angela and Hodgins, since he actually didn't know when they were going to come back and she might have heard something about it more recently, when she spoke up first, making his eyebrows shoot up in surprise and his train of thought vanish.

"So... you're, um, dream this morning..."

A sigh hissed out, and he looked away. Dang, he'd been hoping to avoid that. But he couldn't deny her the answers she was seeking; she deserved to know, since she always trusted him so much with everything that troubled her. He should do the same, he knew.

"Okay," he started, to show her that he was indeed going to speak about it. He used the few seconds he'd gained through doing so to figure out how he was going to go about discussing it. Should he be completely honest, or should he revert to his earlier plan to be vague? She'd probably want honesty, he thought begrudgingly. "It was... complicated," he began, and he watched as she set her fork down to give him her full attention. He noticed she was nearly done eating, having somehow almost cleaned off her entire plate _before_ him. "I started off in the lab." She nodded, not surprised. After all, he mused silently, she probably dreamed herself at the lab all the time, or she had in the past at least. It made sense to dream someplace completely familiar. "And then I ended up... on a street." Here he hesitated even more than he'd already done so far. How on earth was he expected to tell her the rest of this? But her eyes were urging him onward, and he grated his teeth briefly before speaking once more, forcing himself onwards, "I was running towards... the house. But I couldn't reach it, you know... how it is in dreams and all..." he watched her closely, knowing immediately that she got exactly what he meant when he said _the_ house. She'd stiffened slightly, but a nod from her told him that he should continue with the explanation. He decided to hurry it along, skip all the details, and just tell her how it had all ended. "You died," he murmured in a pained whisper.

From the way her expression didn't change much, he realized she'd expected this all along, probably basing her evidence on the way he'd reacted and spoken to her upon being woken up.

"And then I was trying to get a... time-turner, but it didn't work, because magic apparently didn't exist in the... dream. And I woke up when you called me, and... God, Bones, you have no idea how relieved I was to see you."

Now that he'd relived the dream for her, it seemed much less realistic, but he couldn't shake off the feeling it had given him, regardless of how unreal it had all been when spoken about in the bright and warm kitchen.

Her eyes were a bit clouded, and he just watched her as she processed everything he'd said without interrupting her.

"I used to have dreams like that," she admitted softly, and then she spoke sincerely and he knew she was referring to his recent experience, "I'm sorry, Booth."

He simply nodded to her words, feeling equally sorry that she'd experienced something similar, "You did?" he asked in reference to that, having not expected that from her. He knew quite well she had nightmares, but he hadn't thought them to be about him, but more about what had... happened.

"Back after you 'died' and came back," she said with a sad nod. Her eyes weren't looking at him, but more past him, like she was remembering that time of her life. "It made me realize, spending two weeks thinking I'd never see you ever again, just how awful it would be if you really did die. I'd have nightmares about you getting shot again, or kidnapped, or... lots of things. It was incredibly unpleasant... I think it may have played a part in why I was so... _careful_ around you right afterwards, before you followed my to London."

"You mean that entire week of curt responses and refusing to discuss anything but cases?" he asked, his tone taking a teasing edge to it in hopes of lightening the mood a bit.

The corners of her lips turned up, sending relief through him at the sight of the smile from her, even if it wasn't her usual bright one. It didn't quite reach her eyes, but he knew he'd managed to cheer her up a little.

He was relieved when she turned the conversation away from unpleasant topics and brought it around to what they should have for supper that night, and how they still hadn't fully come up with plans for the weekend with Parker, which was now completely confirmed after a rather lengthy phone call to Rebecca.

She collected the dishes, insisting that she'd take care of the clean-up while he showered, and that way when she finished in the bathroom after him they'd be all set to head to work. With a glance at the clock, he realized that quite a bit of time had passed. It was already very near to six thirty. He sighed, and then complied with her wishes, still annoyed that she wouldn't let him help out with the cleaning. He didn't like the fact that now she was doing more work, after she'd already taken the time to cook him a full breakfast. But he couldn't really argue with her, especially given how determined she looked that this schedule she'd come up with be followed.

He headed to the bedroom, collected his clothing for the day, and then shut the bathroom door behind him and started the process of waking himself up further. The warm shower seemed to help, and afterwards he felt refreshed despite the fact that it was still incredibly early in the morning, and he'd gotten a ridiculously small amount of sleep last night. When he headed back out to the rest of the apartment, fully dressed with only small droplets of water still clinging to the tips of his hair, he found her lounging on her couch, the tv on at a low volume so that it was only background noise, with her nose in the fifth book, the fourth one lying neatly on the table.

Without even meaning to, his eyes slid across the room to where his collection now sat on her bookcase. From the looks of it, she'd been rather hasty in her collection of this latest novel, given that the sixth book had fallen over and the third was titled diagonally. And she claimed they were 'interesting'... Ha, yeah right, she was just as engrossed in the storyline as anyone else he'd ever discussed it with.

"Hey," he said, chuckling as she jumped upon hearing his voice. "Good so far?" he asked teasingly. She rolled her eyes.

"Do you get endless enjoyment out of the fact you were right that I enjoy these?"

"Hm... let me think. Yup." He grinned cheekily at her, to which she laughed and shook her head. A hand strayed towards the table and found her bookmark, which she slid into place before setting the book down next to the other one and her barely touched cup of fresh coffee.

"Okay, I'm just going to shower and then we'll get going." She gestured to the tv, "I'm sure you can find something to entertain yourself. I won't be long anyways."

He took her spot on the couch, snatching up the remote with a slightly-childlike grin before he began flipping through stations. She vanished, and a moment later he heard the door to the bathroom shut softly behind her.

The water turned on, and he attempted to submerse himself into the early morning cartoons rather than letting his mind wander to what his beautiful girlfriend was doing at that moment... and what she looked like.

He closed his eyes and tilted his head back in irritation, then raised the volume up more. It didn't really help much, though.

Finally the water turned off and eventually the sound of a hairdryer reached his ears. Good, so she was most likely dressed by now. He found it a bit easier to focus his attention on the show, even though it was almost done and he had hardly any clue what the storyline was about. But he recognized the characters as ones from a show that was one of Parker's favorites. By the time she came out, he was chuckling at the ending just as the credits started to roll to the music.

He turned, still laughing softly, and then abruptly turned back around again. There she was in only a towel, a hairbrush running through her hair. He heard her footsteps head into the bedroom, presumably to get some clothing. He stared blankly at the television screen, unable to get this latest image out of his head. God, did she have any clue at all about what that did to him? Sure, he had to say that it was rather nice how relaxed she was around him, and how far she'd come since the events that seemed eons away now... but _still_. That wasn't really... jeez. He shook his head and sighed, forcibly pushing the image from his mind and getting to his feet. She'd be ready to go in just a minute, most likely.

Sure enough, she emerged out of the bedroom, fully clothed with jewelry on. She didn't even acknowledge him as she headed right back into the bathroom again. He sighed and dropped back into his seat. Probably putting makeup on...

His gaze went across the room, taking in the familiar surroundings. Then he flicked off the television and, with a glance over his shoulder, scooped up the book she had just started reading and opened it to the page she'd stopped on.

For not having had much time this morning, she was already almost finished the second chapter. He'd have to pull her into a discussion about the fourth book later... see what she thought about the ending. Then maybe tonight they could start watching some of the other movies...

"Ready to go?" she asked, appearing once more, the bathroom now dark behind her.

"Of course," he responded, jingling the keys. She scowled, clearly having planned on being the one to drive. Well, he'd beat her to it, he thought cheerfully. She didn't verbally protest against the circumstances, though, and he was content to rest a hand comfortably on her back as they both made their way out and down to the SUV.

* * *

**Sorry to any non-Harry-Potter-reading people for all the references. I rather like giving them that as a topic to discuss, though. :)**

**Well, I'm heading on vacation tomorrow, so I won't be updating for a while. Hope you all liked this chapter, and I'd like to read any feedback you have when I get back. Suggestions are welcome, too, since I'm not ahead in my writing at all. **


	11. Chapter 11

**Yikes, it's been almost two weeks since I last updated. Sorry for the wait; I got back from vacation about a week ago, and I've been trying to get this done ever since then. Hope this was worth the wait. :)**

**Disclaimer: I figured I'd put this since I can't remember the last time I did it. I don't own Bones!!**

* * *

"Booth looked tired," a voice commented from off to the side. She glanced up to see that Cam was standing nearby, leaned with her back against the edge of the platform. She didn't look like she'd gotten much sleep either, but she chose not to comment on that. She knew that her boss' family was in town, which was bound to be a topic she really wanted to avoid.

She shrugged in response to the question, straightening up and stretching slightly. The remains from Limbo that were on the table were the second ones she'd been through that morning, the first having been a mostly easy identification through dentals. "I was up late reading, and he stayed up with me."

Clearly Cam had noticed that it was only Booth who looked tired, and not her as well, but she didn't continue with that line of conversation, obviously seeing that it was a topic they shouldn't discuss.

"I'm half-hoping he brings us a case, and half-hoping he doesn't," she said instead.

"Why?" she asked, frowning.

"Well, if he does then it's a hassle depending on how much evidence there is, seeing as we're two short."

"Three," Temperance corrected. "Mr. Nigel-Murray is out sick."

"Right," Cam sighed. "Forgot about him... well, _three_ down, then. It would be sort of challenging to pull off an entire case in our usual timeframe when we're so understaffed."

"We could always borrow some interns. My students in particular would be quite eager to aid us in an investigation."

"I'm sure," Cam said with a raised eyebrow, and she was pretty sure there was a touch of sarcasm in there. It was confirmed when she continued, "And are they _all_ like the last batch of grad-students? Because we can't really have old car salesmen, structured praying times, horribly depressing attitudes, and... etcetera, all running around in here at once again. You might not have had to deal with it while you were out chasing suspects with Booth... but it was chaos here whenever you went through those doors and they were loose. You have no _idea_ how many experiments went on, with me only able to stop about half of them before they occurred. Of course, most of that was from Hodgins' influence..."

She'd started rambling, and Temperance found that she was only half listening, attempting to nod at the right places so as not to offend her... boss/friend.

"Anyways," Cam went on with a sigh, "Basically... I'm bored but I'm afraid of the effects if we got something that would interest me coming in here."

She nodded thoughtfully in response to that. "I suppose that is a logical conclusion, she agreed. "Were my grad-students really that terrible in here?" she added as an afterthought instead of immediately returning to the remains in front of her.

An amused half laugh from the other woman was her response, then Cam waved as she headed to the stairs, assumably going back to her office to do something tedious such as paperwork. A sigh escaped her lips as she recalled she still had some paperwork of her own to go through later; there was a small amount from the recently identified John Doe of that morning as well as some finishing papers that needed assessment and signatures from the last case.

She scratched absentmindedly at the bandages on her arm, which she'd had to change that morning. They weren't incredibly cumbersome, especially since she could use her other arm to examine remains, but she was looking forward to having full mobility of both her hands again, so she could observe crime scenes and look over damage to bones in the way she was most used to.

The doors opened, and her eyes flew up almost subconsciously before dropping immediately back down when she saw it was a lab tech and not Booth.

Personally, she was hoping for a case, no matter how difficult it would be with only Cam and Thomson to help her in the lab. But Nigel-Murray would be back soon, certainly, so they'd have an extra hand. She had to say, though, that it was getting more and more clear with each passing day just how lacking her work place was without her best friend and Hodgins working by her side and trading theories, with Ange giving advice and the entomologist running experiments with Nigel-Murray.

She didn't even hear the doors open a second time, but a moment later someone was coming up the steps, and she jumped as he appeared immediately by her side. He grinned at her teasingly as she glared.

"Will you _stop_ doing that?" she asked irritably.

He laughed quietly before answering, murmuring softly in her ear, "No, it's actually rather fun. You're supposed to be difficult to sneak up on, I thought?"

"Yeah, well, this is what happens when I decide to trust someone and relax completely around them. Big surprise that they'd abuse that power, isn't it?"

His eyebrows went up in surprise at that, to which she tilted her head up defiantly.

"Hey, Bones, I'm sorry," he said sincerely, clearly stunned by what she'd said. A smile played across her lips. Good, she'd been looking to dig up a little guilt for that. The startling her thing _was_ getting rather old. "I didn't realize... I was just trying to... you know, be amusing... I didn't mean..."

"I know," she told him calmly. "Just..."

"Stop? Yeah, I can do that. I didn't realize I was upsetting you... I would have stopped if I had, you know that, right?"

"Yes, I know that, Booth. Sorry I snapped at you, I think I'm just getting _really_ bored around here and it's not normal for me... even Cam was trying to use small talk as a distraction from paperwork. Hey, you didn't happen to bring a case, did you?" Her eyes lit up hopefully at the possibility, and the smile he gave her only brightened her expression further.

He held up a file with a grin, and she eagerly took it from his hand and flipped it open. "How come we aren't going to the scene?" she questioned, a bit disappointed. "And are they bringing the body here soon?"

"It's in a little town in Maryland," he started to explain, "The local police attempted to handle it, but a second body just turned up and their local coroner is getting overwhelmed with not enough technology to work through all the evidence... basically they just bumped it to us and asked for help. Seeing as the bodies have already been examined, we can't really go to a crime scene unless we count the morgue. We _will,_ however, be heading out there to work with them on this, and seeing the crime scene _minus_ the body will definitely be a part of our investigation."

"When do we leave?" she asked, all traces of her minor agitation from earlier gone with this excellent new field work coming up.

He eyed her injuries suddenly instead of answering, as if he'd just remembered them.

"I'll be fine," she said tersely. "Now, when are we leaving?"

"As soon as you like, Bones. It's just about a two hour drive. We should still have plenty of time to start working on the case when we get there, and we'll get a hotel room for the stay. Or two, if you want, they can be rather small, and no doubt unsanitary..."

"No," she broke in, interrupting him mid-speech, "No," she repeated, shaking her head. He tilted his head to the side questioningly, and she bit her lip and looked away, "I just... not two rooms," she muttered.

He nodded carefully, "Okay, Bones, one room."

She wasn't sure how to tell him that she wasn't really sure if she'd even be able to sleep without him next to her, after how used to his presence she'd grown, so she just nodded quickly to that last statement, not meeting his eyes. Until he lifted her chin up with his finger and gave her a serious but gentle look, which prompted her to speak without saying a word himself.

"I don't want to sleep in a room all alone," she muttered softly, feeling ashamed at the concept. Where had she gone, the Brennan of old, the one who would have scoffed at the concept of relying on someone so completely, of basing all her happiness on another living person who might end up being unreliable or might end up taken from her... all the things that could have gone wrong... all of that pushed away now and left to ashes as she stared at him, forgetting all of that and just hoping he wouldn't react the wrong way? That was all that mattered. And... for some reason, she didn't care that she felt that way. She didn't want back the Brennan who refused to rely on anyone but herself, who looked down on long-term relationships and those who got hurt because they were foolish enough to get so wrapped up in them.

She knew she was right to put all of her trust in him, though, because he answered just how she had been desperately hoping he would. He pulled her closer, instead of pushing her away or teasing her in that joking manner that he sometimes liked to use. She sighed into his shirt, feeling the warmth of his arms around her and relaxing into it. This was why she was so glad to be free of all that doubt and that caution... because this was her reward. A soft kiss to the top of her head seemed to only further provide evidence for her case.

"I understand," he murmured gently. "I'll be right next to you if you want me there," he promised, and she nodded, smiling softly back at him as she tilted her head back to look up into his eyes. He leaned his head down to kiss her warmly, and she responded gratefully, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pushing her fingers through his thick brown hair.

"You two are getting as bad as the early stages of Angela and Hodgins," they were interrupted by a bemused Cam. They pulled apart slightly, but didn't lose contact with one another completely, their arms still touching. The smile on her boss's face, though, told her she wasn't upset by the display in the center of the lab, despite the raised eyebrows of some nearby lab techs and the nervous coughing from a janitor who was attempting to clean up a spill at the edge of the platform and remain mostly unnoticed as he did so. They'd forgotten there were other people around, caught up as they were in their emotions. But she didn't mind, and it didn't seem like Booth did much either. "Don't get me wrong, I was expecting this to happen as much as Ange and the rest of them... but I will get cold water if need be. And..." she coughed slightly, "Dr. Brennan does have an office. Just... those other two weren't very discrete with..." another cough, "Locations. Security cameras? Remember them, got it?" she gave them both a stern look that didn't fully mask her amusement at the scene she'd walked in on before she headed back off with the empty coffee cup that was assumably her reason for leaving her office in the first place.

She found she was looking away from Booth again, and knew he wasn't focusing on her either. Both were thinking the same thing, she had a pretty good feeling, and neither mentioned it. After all, it only made sense that their colleagues, upon seeing them making out in the middle of the lab, would assume they were also sexually active. It had been months, after all, since... what had happened, and given the way she acted at work it only made sense they assumed she was fully coping. Many of the lab workers she saw daily or consulted with didn't even know the details of her life, so surely they assumed even more so than Cam did.

She did want to talk more about it with Booth, because it was a topic he avoided far too quickly in her opinion, but right now seemed like an inappropriate time to do so, and he would certainly agree with her on that.

"So..." the word came out without much prompting. "We should go and... get some stuff at the apartment."

"Right," he said quickly, and steered her down from the platform. "We'll just... call Cam later and fill her in. Anyways, we'll be sending stuff back here to be analyzed, so she'll be involved."

A quick nod of agreement from her, and then they were out the lab doors, his hand resting on the small of her back and neither of them really talking much for the rest of the walk or even the drive back to their building.

It didn't take her long at all to pack up her things, and she was rather amused to see that it took him _longer_ than her to gather his things. She stood by, watching as he folded a shirt and tossed it into his bag with an eyebrow raised. He glanced at her and then turned back with a roll of his eyes.

"What?" she asked, her tone taking a bit of an indignant tone to it. It wasn't her fault that he was slow, after all.

"Nothing, Bones."

"No, you expressed irritation, why?"

He chuckled softly, probably at her wording, but he answered anyways. "How on earth did you pack so quickly?" he asked. "'Cuz that is just not fair if you keep a bag ready to go all the time or something."

"I don't," she answered smugly. "I guess I'm just quicker than you. Besides, you fold slow and... rather sloppy," she added, looking with disapproval at a pair of jeans he was tossing in the bag.

He gave her a look, and she surprised herself by actually understanding it. She smiled and took him up on the silent dare, grabbing his bag and dumping it upside-down before efficiently and rapidly refolding each and every article. He dropped down onto the mattress, resigning to just letting her do it all for him.

When she'd finished, everything neatly in place and well organized, she collected his toothbrush for him and dropping it in a plastic bag, zipped up his bag and handed it to him with a smirk.

He just shook his head at her, a smile tilting up the corners of his mouth. "You're crazy, you know that, right, Bones?"

She gave him a look, but before she could even ask him what exactly he meant by it he was already continuing.

"In a good way, of course. You know, like a... what would I do without my crazy, wonderful Bones, way." She laughed and then brushed past him, grabbing the keys from the kitchen counter before he could.

"Never should have put them down," she teased as he stopped short and his shoulders hunched as he saw her with them.

"Next time I won't," he muttered, but a moment later he was jokingly attempting to snatch them away from her. Easily evading him, she slung her own overnight bag over her shoulder and was the first one to exit the door.

* * *

"This is ridiculous."

"Aw, come on, Bones, it's pretty much a road trip. Gotta do something to pass the time."

"I was doing something, though," she said with a sigh.

"Yeah, well reading isn't entertaining for anyone but you. Just... go along with me on this, okay? Please?"

She shut the book with a heavy sigh and slid it into the glove box. "I give in to your begging and agree to let you drive for the sole purpose of me reading in order to pass the time, and this is how you repay me." He gave her a pleading look, and she rolled her eyes. "_Fine_," she huffed.

He grinned at her, "Okay, should we look at license plates, or count flags?"

She gave him an incredulous look. "You _are_ kidding, right?"

"Hey, I've got a kid, those are the kind of fun things you do on the road."

She raised an eyebrow, not convinced at all, and then reached for the radio and flipped it on. "I vote we listen to music," she said firmly as she began searching through the stations.

There was no protest from him, for which she was grateful. Music would be much more relaxing, and it would fill the silence without the awkwardness of a child's game. Booth clearly agreed with her on choosing music, although not on the relaxing part, because before long he'd reached a finger over and tapped a button. Immediately the car was filled with some song she didn't' really know, and he was banging his hands on the steering wheel like it was a drum and singing along at the top of his lungs.

She glanced at the digital clock display. They'd been on the road for roughly an hour. Which meant there was another sixty minutes to go. Sometime in that span of driving she knew they were going to have to talk about the issues they were still working through. And if they somehow evaded doing so during this time, then it would have to be addressed at some point during their stay in this small town, or at the very least on the way back.

Out of the corner of her eye she glanced at him as the song changed. He thrummed along to the beginning guitar intro, nodding his head up and down to the beat. She reached over and hit the power button, plunging them into complete silence. Booth's hand fell with a final tap on the wheel, and he turned to frown at her, not really in anger or frustration, but more in confusion. Might as well get it out of the way right now.

She bit her lip and then started, "Booth, we need to... discuss some things."

"Now?" he questioned apprehensively. It was quite clear he knew exactly what she was referring to when she said 'some things.'

She just nodded, watching him carefully to see his reaction. He didn't act distressed by that, though, and instead he waited for her to continue on her own time, his eyes going back and forth at intervals from her to the road.

"What Cam said..." she began.

"That doesn't mean anything," he cut in before she could go any further, surprising her with the suddenness of his words. "We don't have to follow by the expectations of others, and we aren't going to. Okay, Bones? This is..." he sighed, "This is something that is between us, and doesn't involve anyone else or any outside influence. And... Bones, I just don't think..."

"You don't think I'm ready," she finished for him, her tone empty of emotion, her voice calm and controlled.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, sucking in a breath through his teeth. Then he nodded with one jerky movement of his head.

"And when exactly _will_ you think I'm _ready_?"

"I don't... I just... Bones, I told you, this isn't something to be... rushed." He stumbled onwards, "What if... I mean..." he sighed as he searched for words, and she waited in silence for him to continue. "What if I hurt you?" he whispered.

"You wouldn't," she said confidently, and he snorted in response, making her eyebrows fly upwards.

"Yeah, sure. How can you know that? How can either of us know that? Bones, what happened... I don't..."

He didn't want to make it all come back, she realized. Her hand flew up, telling him to stop, to not go on with whatever he might have said next while her thoughts caught up. She knew he was so hesitant because he was so protective of her, and he didn't want to hurt her. It should make sense that he might actually be more afraid of emotionally scarring her than physically. He'd been through a lot throughout all of this, too, she reminded herself. He'd seen her more vulnerable than she would ever let anyone see her, and he had chosen to be the one who brought her back to safety because he truly cared about her. He wouldn't be able to bear it, she knew with sudden clarity, if he upset her in any way if they were to actually sleep together.

But they would _eventually_. She would not let... _him..._ have such a hold over her that she could not have a normal relationship with the person she loved.

What if Booth _was_ right, though? What if it all came back to her, the nightmares, the flashbacks, the emotions... could she handle that, if it all attacked her at once and plunged her back into that darkness that she'd recently clawed her way mostly out of? Could _Booth_ handle it?

"You're right," she said calmly, and received a surprised look from the seat next to her. "Let's... not talk about this now."

"But you want to talk about it later," he concluded.

She frowned thoughtfully, then shook her head. "No," she assured him, "Not later as in this week or even next... but down the road, _eventually_, we will. You know that, right?"

"Of course," he agreed. She felt a soft smile or relief twitch the corners of her lips upwards. It was always calming to know that he understood her so completely that he knew it was a matter that was 'of course.' And the fact that he wasn't telling her a cautious 'Someday, but we'll think about it when it comes around' like others probably would have. Instead he was confident and understanding. Her smile widened, and he smiled back at her, his eyes reflecting the emotion as they softened warmly.

"Hey, we will be back for this weekend, right?" she questioned suddenly, the thought occurring to her.

"What?" he asked, bewilderment suddenly taking over on his face, "Oh! Yeah, of course, Bones. Wouldn't want to miss Parker, now would we? Besides, this case doesn't sound incredibly weird like a lot of the ones we get called out on. Should only take a couple of days... we weren't in Washington that long, remember? And that was one freaky case."

She chuckled, "You still remember that?" she asked in surprise. That was only... what? The fourth case they'd ever worked together?"

"You bet I do!" he replied indignantly. "What do you think I do, Bones, forget cases we worked on together?"

"I just thought, you know, it was a long time ago... what else do you remember about that one?"

"The look on that guy's face when you started picking up the bear poop with your hands."

"I had gloves on!" she defended herself.

"Yeah, but, Bones... that's still just..." he scowled and shook his head. "It's gross. But I do remember that guy at the post office, well... actually, _all_ the guys in town, not just him, had a thing for you. Remember when we went to that bar and they kept stealing you from each other?"

"Why on earth do you remember a little detail like that? That had no relation to the case," she reminded him. She still remembered it rather clearly, though, as well.

"You expect me to forget it? Again, Bones, you're hurting me here, you know. Ange was a genius suggesting we go that bar, after all."

"Why?" she had a hunch, but she was curious to hear what he had to say. Besides, she didn't like going off of hunches.

He smirked, "That was the first time I got to dance with a certain somebody," he said, his smile firmly in place and his eyes never leaving the road. Her mouth opened slightly and she stared at him, then her lips formed into an immediate smile. She'd been mostly right. But she couldn't resist pointing out the other part of it as well.

"You were jealous," she said, not making it a question but rather an undeniable statement. He chuckled at her.

"Wow, get right to the heart of it, huh, Bones?" He chuckled, and then admitted, "Of course I was jealous. Every guy in the town was... interested in you. I didn't exactly care much for it. Turned out I was right, though, wasn't I? After all, you danced with the creep who ended up being a murderous cannibal who was pretty much clinically insane."

Now she scowled, and then quickly quipped back, "Yes, but neither of us knew that. And you would have been jealous regardless of who it had been."

"Awfully confident about that, aren't we now?"

She shrugged, but she felt her sureness about the matter waver slightly.

"Relax," he said, seeing her change in expression. He was smiling gently at her. "You aren't wrong in thinking that. Besides, you always knew what an overprotective _alpha-male_ I was, so it stands to reason I'd be jealous and ready to defend you against pretty much anyone."

"You were dating Tessa then, though," she recalled with a more firm frown drawing down her eyebrows.

"Oh, _now_ who's the one remembering small details not relating to the case?" she didn't laugh at the teasing tone in his voice though, and he went on, "I told you, Bones, and I will always stick by it, that I would never cheat. I never have, and now, with you... well you can't exactly even expect me to find someone _worth_ cheating with if I actually did want to when you're around, now can you?" That drew a smile out of her, and she felt that familiar warm feeling she always got around Booth strengthen even more so at the compliment. "I did really like her, though," he continued, going back to the original conversation about Tessa, "But I saw pretty quick that she and I wouldn't work out at all. I won't deny that I was... intrigued by you, though, even then."

"We barely knew each other," she replied, trying to see what had interested him about her back then. She knew most of her prior boyfriends had been initially interested because of her features rather than who she was, but she had a feeling that, being who he was, Booth had caught on to who she was as a person just as quickly as most males judged who was worth chasing over how pretty they were.

"You were fascinating," he replied with a shrug. "And I saw you practically every day, so I learned more about you constantly."

They were silent for a while, and she wondered how they'd ended up at this topic in the first place. Where had they even started out at that would get them to this point? It wasn't often that either of them talked about cases they'd worked on together from years ago. They were always too busy focusing on the here and now to bother with it.

"We wouldn't be like this if you'd never picked me up from the airport that day," she said quietly, a thoughtful edge to her voice.

"Huh?" he asked, clearly startled by the sudden statement.

"If you hadn't chosen to come to the airport, if I'd been successful in driving you away like everyone else, I'd still be in there all day long, I'd still be who I was four years ago." It was true, she couldn't deny it. If he'd never become a part of her life, but merely a quick shadow going in and out, forgotten almost immediately, she'd be far from the person she was today. She'd be Dr. Brennan... not Bones. She'd be the world renowned forensic anthropologist, a partner to none, cared about by few. Her life would be drastically different if she'd never let him in, or if he'd never tried to _be _let in. Risks... those risks she'd taken, some without even realizing it at the time... what would she be like without them, if she'd locked herself _forever _in that shell of protection? She shook her head, realizing she was drifting off into an almost psychological debate in her head. It wasn't worthwhile to think of what ifs, she should know that by now.

"But I did," he replied softly. "And you might have thought you were pushing me away, but you were just amazing me continuously. Plus, I was pretty frustrated my charm wasn't working on you," he added, smirking teasingly at her.

Laughter filled the car from first her and then him as well, and the topic drifted away from the past and back into small and trivial matters. They argued over stations on the radio, and compared the benefits of being a vegetarian to those of the average American. It was because of the second one that they did not stop at the McDonalds that Booth had attempted to steer them to. Instead, she directed him quite firmly to a small restaurant that was quite obviously family-owned and operated.

"My choice would have been cheaper," he complained as they flipped through the menu.

"So? I'm paying," she said, leaving no room for argument.

"Bones..." he groaned, and she glared at him, not wanting to get into this argument over who paid the bill once more. It already happened often enough when they were just making routine trips to the diner or the local Thai place.

"Just leave it, okay, Booth? If we were married I doubt you'd complain when you used money I'd earned." She turned her attention back to the menu, scanning it for a salad section. She located it, but her attention was forced upward as she felt his eyes on her. Too late, she realized what she'd said, and how her logical argument must have sounded. She swore inside her head, and began to rapidly think of a way to clean up the new issue she'd managed to bring up. "Not that we ever will be," she said carefully. "Just... I meant, hypothetically, you would not object if we actually shared an account like married couples do. So... just let me pay."

She turned abruptly back to finding something to order, putting the menu up to shield her face completely from his gaze. It was a long few seconds before she heard him pick up his again and open it once more. She groaned inwardly, cursing herself for being so stupid as to bring up the subject when she was the one who always avoided it. She did _not_ want to give him the wrong idea, and with statements like that... well she was certainly going to have to be more careful with thinking before she spoke.

Suddenly she was immensely grateful for the trip out of town. She didn't really want to see Sweets again anytime soon, and they'd had a session scheduled for today for the first time since she'd gotten out of the hospital. Now it would have to be pushed back, a fact that gave her immense relief. More time to compose herself before facing the psychologist once more. He would probably just absolutely love delving into what all this meant.

The waiter came around shortly and got their orders. Booth ordered steak and French fries, and she got herself the fried eggplant with pasta and a side salad.

She was thankful that the conversation, while starting off with difficulty, eventually flowed back to its rapid pace until they were once more talking continuously without any trouble. Neither of them brought marriage back up, but Booth did bring the conversation rather close to it when they got on the topic of Angela and Hodgins just after their food arrived.

"So you have no clue when they might be coming back?"

"None," she answered with a sigh, sliding her fork, laden with pasta, into her mouth. "I did ask Cam, though," she added as she finished chewing that first bite. "And she said Hodgins told her they'd be gone two to three weeks roughly before they left. So they still have quite some time left away."

He nodded thoughtfully. She quickly dragged the conversation away from their friends' honeymoon and back to anything case-related. They talked about that for most of the rest of their meal, making sure to keep the details to a minimum seeing as they were in public and they didn't want to terrify the couple in the booth behind them.

"You sure you don't want dessert?" he questioned after she asked for the bill.

"Yes," she replied firmly, "Booth, I could barely finish my meal, let alone eat one of those giant pieces of chocolate cake you kept eyeing on the dessert menu." She pulled her coat on with a glance outside, at where it had started to rain. He followed her gaze and made a face at the sight of the change in weather.

"That looks pleasant," he muttered. She shrugged in response, and then pulled out her wallet to pay for the meal upon the return of the waiter, leaving a generous tip for him in the process.

"Come on, let's go," she said as she got to her feet.

Sighing, he followed along after her. Together they dashed through the rain and climbed, equally soaked, into their seats in his SUV. She pulled the wet strands of hair out of her eyes and shook out her wet hands, knowing there wasn't much else she could do about her current state. Booth wasn't looking much better, the short run having nonetheless left his hair completely flattened to his head and a blotchy pattern of raindrops covered his clothing. Glancing down at herself, she realized the same applied to her own outfit.

It was going to be a long rest of the ride, she thought as the engine roared to life and the windshield wipers began to rapidly swipe back and forth at a steady pace, the only sound in the vehicle besides the never ending thrumming of the large raindrops onto the pavement and the roof of the car.

She leaned against the window and closed her eyes, letting the sound relax her. She hadn't even realized how tired she was until now.

When Booth glanced over at her a minute later... she was fast asleep. He smiled softly at the peacefulness of the calm slight smile on her face and the slow and steady sound of her breathing.

"Sleep well," he murmured softly to her, turning his attention back to the blurry road ahead.

Somewhere, deep in a surprisingly dream free sleep... his voice reached her, and her smile turned up a bit more as she shifted slightly and then sighed off further into the comfortable depths.

* * *

**Just so you know, I have not a clue where this is going right now. This case was never in my outline, and yet here it is now. Stories seriously do write themselves. And don't fear, there WILL be a weekend with Parker. Sometime soon. And Booth will have that talk with Sweets that I sorta forgot about with the whole Brennan ending up in the hospital thing. **

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, and everyone who wished me a happy vacation, too. :)**


	12. Chapter 12

***Grimaces* okay, so first I take forever to update, and then this chapter is... not my best. At all. It's short, and I don't really care for it. In other words: filler. **

**Please forgive me. :(**

* * *

"I can't believe they called us all the way out here for this," she complained once again, and he chuckled.

"I know, Bones. You've already told me that."

She grunted irritably and picked up the pen to fill in another section of the report she was filling out.

"Their medical examiner and their law enforcement officials clearly are not up to standard. Anyone who has any experience whatsoever in my field could tell what killed these victims."

"You've said that, too. And yet every time you seem to forget to finish and tell _me_ what killed them."

"Pitchfork," she said calmly, pointing to three spots which did not look at all remarkable to his eyes. "I have no idea, of course, why someone would choose to kill two people with such a weapon, but that's definitely what happened." She turned to the victim on the table behind her, and indicated three more spots, all of which Booth could barely notice. "This would be far easier if I had access to superior technology and the right machinery to clean the bones... but for now I'll just have to work with what we have available. Dr. Andrews, have you prepared the particulate samples as I instructed?"

The man begrudgingly held up several vials of liquid and a few evidence bags with soil clinging to their insides. Clearly when he'd asked for help from the federal government, he hadn't been expecting to be ordered around by them when they arrived.

"Good, have those shipped to Dr. Hodg-" she scowled, "Dr. _Thomson_, at the Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab." Andrews nodded and headed off to do as he was told, while Bones turned her attention back to one of the sets of remains.

"So the attacks are definitely related?"

"Certainly. If I'm right about what the evidence appears to point to so far, as well... then they were both killed in the same location, at about the same time. The bodies were dumped in separate locations, though, according to these files..." she flipped through them again with a frown. "But that's more your area of expertise."

"That's right, Bones, you give me the info... I'll figure out who did it."

She suddenly stepped the side, hooking up her laptop and efficiently flipping it open and getting it started up. A moment later she had a webcam chat pending... and then the dark screen brightened as the lab platform could be seen. Thomson's face was in front of her, waiting expectantly.

"We're sending some samples to you now," she informed him, "They're coming express overnight, so they should arrive by morning. Meanwhile, have Cam and Nigel take a look at those instructions Ange left for the Angelator and see if they can come up with a logical explanation for the events... I'll have a copy of my report sent via e-mail to the both of them."

He nodded, and the chat shut off. She turned back to her other work with simple determination in her eyes, but he wasn't fooled, especially as a yawn betrayed her. She might have taken a nap in the car, but that didn't mean she wasn't still exhausted. Besides, they didn't even know where their hotel was or what room they were in, and who knew how long that could take in a small town like this with lots of winding roads in inconvenient locations. From taking a wrong turn on the way in they'd ended up driving along next to a lake for twenty minutes before arriving at a point only a short distance up the road from where they'd made the turn to begin with. Or, as Bones had put it, 'where, _you_ made the turn, Booth. I was not awake for that, so you can't possibly blame me.'

"Come on, Bones," he said, snatching her coat up from where it was draped over the back of a rusty folding chair that had been shoved up at a makeshift desk. "Let's vamoose; you need to get some sleep."

To his amazement she nodded, stifling another yawn as she took the coat from him and pulled it on. She called out instructions to the other workers as she gathered her things together, and then came willingly alongside him towards the doors.

Miserably, it was still raining outside, and so they once more ran through the downpour to the SUV and climbed in hastily, out of breath with droplets sliding down strands of hair and soaking into fabric.

"I really hope this lets up soon," Booth muttered as he started the engine, flipped the windshield wipers on to full speed, and pulled out of the small parking lot and on to the road. "You know, I expected to have to give you a list of reasons _why_ you should get some sleep, and instead you just get up and come along quietly."

She shrugged. "I _am_ tired. I'm not going to argue that point with you."

He chuckled, "I'm just not used to winning so easily."

"You didn't win," she said indignantly, "I made a choice. Now be quiet and be happy about it," she added, a teasing edge somehow making its way into her voice.

"That's the response I was looking for," he chuckled under his breath. She cast him a look, but didn't speak up again, her eyes dancing with laughter.

They only got lost twice before Bones finally pointed out a small side road which led them directly to the hotel they were looking for. He pouted as she grinned cheekily at him, and then they both collected their bags and headed inside. The one positive was that, while they'd been so turned around driving back and forth across town, the rain had let up slightly.

Once they'd gotten everything sorted out at the main desk, she took the lead to the stairs and brought them upwards to the second floor, where they found their room at the far end on the left. It was tiny, almost ridiculously too small for two people. With difficulty they managed to get both bags into a spot in the corner, and then she was able to extract her sleep clothes and head into the bathroom. He changed quickly while she was gone, and sighed as he took in the size of the bed. It was a far cry from her large and comfy king size bed back at the apartment... it was going to be tight sleeping quarters tonight. Not that they didn't already sleep close to one another... but it was still nice to have the _ability_ to roll over without worrying about _crushing_ the other person by accident.

The sound of the door opening got his attention just as he located the remote to the television in the dinky drawer of the small nightstand on his side of the bed. He dropped it on top of the little table, knowing that it would be best to sleep rather than distract themselves with whatever might be on at the moment. In her pajama bottoms and light tank top, she climbed onto the bed and yanked aside the covers to crawl underneath beside him.

He pulled her close to him, pressing his forehead up against her and smiling softly. "Get some rest, okay, Bones?" he instructed. "You haven't been sleeping enough lately, in my opinion."

"I never sleep _or_ eat enough in your opinion," she snorted.

"No, just sleep. I've been quite proud of your eating habits lately."

"Well that's because _someone_ keeps handing me unhealthy food to eat, and I find it whenever I open my cabinets. I was doing great at maintaining a completely balanced and healthy lifestyle until ice cream suddenly replaced my frozen yogurt."

"What can I say? Frozen yogurt's a joke compared to Edie's."

She scowled, "It's much healthier. And those potato chips you insist on buying are cruelly addicting, you know."

He laughed, "Yes, I know. Much better than cucumber slices, huh?"

There was silence again, when she didn't respond to the last comment of his. Another yawn pulled her jaws apart a moment later, and he reached over and shut off the lamp.

"Sleep," he said firmly.

"Yeah, well you make that a little difficult," she mumbled against his chest.

He felt himself tense, _you make it just as difficult for me,_ his thoughts whispered. _Probably more so._

"Why won't you at least try?" she whispered softly.

He opened his mouth then shut it again, convinced he must have heard the quiet words wrong. And even if he'd interpreted them correctly... how was he supposed to respond?

In the silence, she pulled away from him, and he suddenly felt very cold as the mattress shifted and he realized she'd flipped over and put her back to him. He wasn't going to let her go to sleep upset, not when he had an opportunity to make her understand.

"I want you," he whispered, and he saw, in the faint light from outside, that she had turned herself again so she was looking at him. "Don't ever think that's why I keep distance, Bones, why I won't..." he sighed, "I've told you this all before, Bones. I don't know how much I'll have to repeat it for you to understand, but I'll keep at it until you see... my reasoning. I _know_ you think you're ready. And... you feel like you need to prove something. Whether to yourself, or me, or... the _world_, I don't know. But you have to understand that you _don't_ have to. You're pressuring yourself, and don't deny it. I can see that beneath all your frustration with me... you're afraid. And that's okay, Bones, that's something you are certainly entitled to. But I'm not going to do this if I think you aren't ready... and I don't think you are. I'm sorry."

"I understand," she said quietly, her voice empty of emotion. Drained. He sighed again, shaking his head.

"I don't _know_ how to help you. I wish I did, Bones... I really do. But I'm doing the best I can. I'm not going to hurt you, though. No matter what."

She was thinking, was how he interpreted the following silence which engulfed the little room. He could feel her breathing in and out, sense her presence so close and yet not touching him even slightly.

"What if I asked you to?" she questioned, barely audible.

"Asked me what? To hurt you?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes," she whispered.

He stared at her outline beside him, mouth opening and closing repeatedly. He thought of things to stay, but none of them fit, and they all washed away with each wave of correction and concern that came over him.

"Nothing is easy, and after what... what I went through, you can't expect this process to be just... painless. I have to hurt to be healed, Booth. I can't stay afraid forever... and I can change my mind if I want to, but I... I want to do something, rather than _nothing_. I want to start bringing my life back to normal, back to the way I want it to be, rather than the way it was forced to become, out of my control. I want that _control_ back."

"I love you," he answered, choking on the words, "But, Bones... I don't think I can do this. This... I just don't think this is the time. I want... I want it to feel right, not to be... an experiment. I want it to be a decision we both agree on, together, when we choose to try rather than here so suddenly. I'm sorry. You're amazing, Bones, though. No one I know could ever be as strong as you are. And I _promise_ you we will, understood? I'm just asking you to stop pushing yourself towards this because you feel the need to. Don't let that be your reason for anything."

He couldn't make out the details of her face, so there was no way to tell how she had taken his words until he felt her shift again, and this time her warmth suddenly radiated through him as she scooted over and hesitantly rested herself against him. He wrapped his arms firmly around her, and pressed his face into her hair, breathing in her sweets sent.

"I'm sorry," she murmured.

"Shh... don't apologize, Temperance. You're trying so hard, sometimes you don't realize it. That's okay. We'll always work through any problems we come across. Always. That's what we do, Bones. And I'll always love you, no matter what."

"I love you so much," she mumbled back through his shirt.

He stroked her back up and down warmly. "I know. Now sleep, okay? And stop worrying yourself so much about this... just remember, and never doubt, how much I care about you. And how absolutely nothing could ever change that. Think of that whenever you're upset, or worried about something."

She nodded against him, and he smiled softly. His hand continued to run up and down from her shoulder to elbow, until he felt her drift off into sleep. Then and only then, when he was certain she was peacefully resting, did he, too, close his eyes and let sleep take him.

* * *

**I promise things will get better soon. I feel like I keep coming back to this subject, though, so the characters must be telling me I'd better address it head on pretty soon. Blah. For now, Booth's hesitance will continue to be my procrastination on figuring out how I'm going to get there. **

**PS: don't think that I've been ENTIRELY ignoring this story for the past... what? Week and a half? I actually wrote the longest chapter I've ever written last weekend, and it will eventually arrive in this story.**

**And on another note... OMG ONLY SIX DAYS!!!!!! Plus, has anyone else read the little info preview thing about the second episode? The Bond in the Boot, I believe it was? Now I'm doubly excited; I can't wait to see what will happen! **


	13. Chapter 13

**Less than an hour to go!!**

**Here's the next chapter, and it's nice and long, too :) Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"Okay, so it took a little longer than I thought," she conceded irritably, scowling at him. "But _you_ were the one who said first that we'd be all wrapped up and home well before the weekend."

He shrugged, "But you're the one who _continued_ to back up that statement saying over and over how they should have been able to handle it easily on their own... how they should never have wasted our time with how easy it was to get the information..."

"Well they _should_ have been able to do far more than they did," she argued defensively.

"Keep telling yourself that, Bones."

She glared icily. "You started it," she muttered as she turned her head to look out at the gloomy sky. It looked very much like it might start raining again. They were lucky it wasn't doing so right at that moment, in fact, given how consistent the miserable weather had been for the entire duration of their case.

He chuckled, clearly trying to lighten the mood, but she didn't reciprocate, instead continuing to stare at the passing scenery, sighing softly. Usually their banter was enjoyable, was something she looked forward to, even, but today... she just didn't feel in the mood. Mostly because she felt incompetent from how she'd missed the most important detail for days and that had been the reason it had been so held up, but partly because of the weather and because they were going home and she knew that her two friends were not going to be there, waiting for them.

"You okay?" Booth asked, the humor in his tone fading to slightly curious concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She didn't elaborate, and she knew he didn't believe her.

"You aren't regretting our plans for the weekend, are you?"

"No, of course not," she quickly reassured him. "I've been looking forward to that. I just... you're right, it was my fault we spent all week working on something that should have been much faster."

"Hey, whoa! I _never_ said it was your fault, Bones. I was just teasing that you contradicted yourself with saying it would be quick and then we spend much longer than we'd thought. It wasn't your _fault_ the case took a while."

"Booth," she said firmly, "Both victims had injuries separate from the ones which were the causes of death. I should have been able to match the damage between them to see that the first had actually been the one who inflicted the injuries upon the second, rather than it all being the work of a third person. I should have _seen_ that the stabbing entries were different on the pitchfork not because they were facing different directions or because the force was different, or because of any other theories I might have employed... but because they were different people _altogether_. I should have seen it..."

"Everyone makes mistakes, Bones. No one's perfect, no matter how much we might try. Although... you're pretty perfect in _my_ eyes."

His attempt at flattery didn't go unnoticed; she gave him a weak smile to show she appreciated it, but didn't feel reassured much by his other words.

"That's not all, is it?" Booth probed, seeing through her so easily that she felt like she'd need a brick wall of separation just to keep her thoughts safe. And even that might not help.

"No," she admitted, sighing in defeat. "I wish... I wish Ange and Hodgins were back. And at the same time I feel horrible for wanting them back among all our death and skeletons instead of enjoying themselves together somewhere that's relaxing and _happy_."

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, with wanting your friends back. Heck, I want them back, too. And you can bet that they'd actually be rather flattered if we told them we sat around thinking about them constantly while they were gone. I'd never be able to claim I dislike squints again."

"You already stopped claiming that quite a while ago, Booth."

He laughed, "Yeah, I know. But still, we can remember way back when, now can't we?"

"I remember you convincing Zach that you completely ignoring his existence was some form of male-bonding exercise."

"That worked for quite some time, as I recall."

She laughed, and then sighed again and stared back out the window. "I miss Zach, too."

"I'll admit I do miss the guy a lot," Booth said, and she could see from the corner of her eye that he was attempting to watch her subtly while also paying attention to the road. "Do you want to go visit him?" he asked suddenly, and her head snapped around to look at him, her eyebrows shooting up to her hairline. "We could... you know, just stop by there on the way back. If... you know, if you wanted to..." he trailed off uncertainly, but she quickly nodded.

"Yes," she said, and then with more conviction, "Yes, I'd like that." A slight smile tilted up the corner of her mouth, and she turned to stare out the window again, feeling slightly better than she had a moment ago.

The silence was not tense for the rest of the ride... just companionable and calm. Neither of them had anything to say, but it didn't concern her. They'd probably have plenty to talk about later, anyways.

As they neared DC he took a road they didn't usually travel on, and she recognized the route after a few minutes when they connected to another road and headed in the direction of the facility where Zach was now living.

It was only after they'd stepped out of the vehicle and made their way towards the door that she realized that Zach might well be the only person in her life who had no idea what had happened to her, past or present. She wondered for a moment whether or not to tell him about what he'd missed, what had transpired over the past few months, but she decided not to as the cold air conditioning engulfed them.

"I'd rather we not bring up... you know," she muttered to Booth as they headed for the main desk. He nodded quickly, as though this had been his plan from the start, and then he offered her a reassuring smile.

"We were wondering if we could arrange a meeting with a Zachary Addy?" Booth asked, flashing a smile at the woman on the other side of the glass that shielded her from the small lobby room.

She simply nodded, apparently unaffected by his charm. He looked slightly put-out by this, and she found herself smirking in amusement.

"You don't have an appointment," the woman stated, scowling in annoyance.

"I'm aware of that," Booth said tersely. "But we'd like to see Mr. Addy."

"I'm sorry, sir, but unless you have prearranged a meeting time and gotten it approved with..." she trailed off as he flipped open his badge and showed it to her. "Oh. Um..." she shuffled through some papers. "Here," she said, grabbing two visitor passes from an untidy drawer and shoving them through the opening at the base of the glass. "I'll just... get it arranged."

He nodded, and then turned to direct his smile at her instead. She shook her head at him, unable to keep her amusement from shining in her eyes. He was so sure he could get away with anything, convince people to do what he wanted, and when they actually did... well it only inflated his ego more and more. If she wasn't around to deflate him regularly, she was pretty sure he'd float away. Metaphorically, of course.

The receptionist lady was now on the phone, snapping her gum as she stared at the ceiling and waited for someone to pick up.

"Yeah, Gary, listen, we've got some visitors here for a mister... Addy. Yeah, just any visiting room will do... uh huh. I'll send them in to wait for him. Right." She hung up and smiled at them almost falsely. "Right down that hall, first door on the right," she informed them with an air of over-friendliness.

Booth nodded his thanks, but she made no move to do the same as she followed him. She found that she disliked the woman, and for really no reason in particular. Normally that would concern her, but she decided to just let it go as a normal human response to some sort of tone in the woman's voice, and then stepped into the room to which Booth was holding the door open to.

He followed her in, and they took seats in the uncomfortable seats, which, although cushioned, were still stiff. It was similar to the room she'd been in when visiting him before, and she suddenly felt guilty for having not come nearly as much as she should have. Had Zach had any visitors at all for the past months? Or was he constantly alone here with nothing to keep his genius mind occupied?

The sound of a door opening distracted her, and she lifted her head up and locked eyes with a floppy haired Zach, who's expression was conveying great surprise.

"Dr. Brennan," he said as a way of greeting, eyes wide, and she almost winced at the sound of his voice, the guilt cutting deeper as she realized she'd very nearly forgotten what it sounded like due to how she never even spared a thought for him, and always avoided memories that specifically contained him because they only reminded her of what he'd done and how he was no longer with them.

"Zach," she said simply, but her voice echoed with the emotion that his had lacked almost entirely. She stood up quickly and went towards him, her arms wrapping around his skinny frame in an embrace.

"What brings you here?" the young man asked, confused and apparently slightly dazed by her emotional greeting. They sat down, and she struggled with how to explain why she'd made no contact with him for such a long time.

"Bones wanted to see you, and I have to admit I sorta did too," Booth said from next to her, smiling. "So how you been doing?"

Zach was quite obviously taken aback by this question, aimed at him by Booth, and he looked to her the way he'd done so many times for approval, for clarification, for answers... she missed that more than she'd realized.

She nodded slightly, resting a hand on the table a short distance from his, attempting to show him she cared without overwhelming him socially.

"Most of the other patients are far below my intellectual levels," Zach said, phrasing it almost like a question, as though he wasn't sure if this was what they were looking for as an answer.

"That's not a shock," his former mentor said, smiling gently as she recalled all the times that he'd surpassed even her in the speed of his understanding and ability to calculate immense problems before most had even figured out the question itself. "No one's more brilliant than you are, after all."

A rare smile was her reward for the compliment, and she was sure that this expression from him was even more of a nonexistence in this location than it had been among the team back at the lab. But it still pleased her, to have the ability to instill pleasure in the younger anthropologist, and make him just as proud of his work as she was of it...

As she had been of it, she reminded herself sadly.

"I'm sorry I haven't been to see you," she said, hoping he would be able to pick up on the sincerity in her tone.

"You have cases to work, Dr. Brennan. It's perfectly understandable that the priority would remain to stay objective about the tasks that needed completion rather than focusing on a divergent path that is no longer within the relevancy range."

"I still should have come more," she said, staring levelly at him, trying to convey understanding to her mathematically and rationally minded friend and former student. He didn't respond this time with any defense of her, but rather took up a similar line of conversing that was probably meant to console her in only a way which Zach would see it.

"Hodgins has been by a few times, but not much more than you. He and Angela have gotten back together... I'm glad of that."

"They just got married," she asserted with a nod, and Zach's eyes widened in surprise. Apparently his friends hadn't visited often enough for him to have known about those more recent events.

"Angela also mentioned about..." he trailed off, eyes flicking from Booth to her, and she smiled softly, amused. She felt the familiar way she always had around Zach... as the teacher seeing their student grow older, surpassing them in some areas but yet remaining behind in others and always staying there. Zach might be as intelligent as her, and more so in some aspects, but he would forever be behind in comprehending conversation and proper ways to ask questions. He didn't have someone like Booth following him around and educating him the way she'd had for all these years.

"Yes, Booth and I are dating," she answered the unspoken question. The words still sounded weird, no matter how she said them or how often. She wondered briefly if they always would.

Zach seemed uncomfortable with this line of conversation, clearly not knowing how to address this development, so she changed the subject to save him from having to say some sort of awkward congratulations.

"Has Sweets been by at all?"

"I have a different psychologist, one who works here," he explained, "Dr. Sweets stopped coming by not long after I used his access card to escape."

So that had been the last bit of interesting involvement with the outside world he'd had... she winced internally, feeling more and more upset with herself for having avoided coming here for so long. Zach wasn't meant to be in a place like this... he wasn't crazy, and this was more likely to _make_ him crazy than anything else.

"I'll see if I can arrange with Caroline for some help from you from time to time," she offered, knowing that it must be the one thing he wanted. "I'm sure either she or Booth will be able to pull some strings and let you provide insight for us." Her eyes flicked to Booth for a second, and she saw him nod in agreement with what she'd said.

The door behind them opened, and a guard was revealed standing there. "Visiting time has ended," he said stiffly, and she turned back to Zach apologetically as they stood up. He stood as well, but remained in the same location right in front of his chair. She hesitated for a second as Booth placed his hand on her back to guide her towards the door, and then she pulled away and warmly wrapped her arms around the lost member of their team.

"We all miss you, Zach," she whispered. She blinked her eyes as she stepped away again, determined not to get emotional in here. It was a bit of a challenge with all the memories and the sorrow of loss that this had all brought back up, but the way Booth was carefully looking away from her let her know that he'd already either suspected or was aware of her reactions to this. He stepped around her and stuck his hand out and shook Zach's firmly before clapping an open hand on his shoulder. Then he turned to her, taking her hand in his and squeezing it reassuringly as they made their way out past the guard.

* * *

"Thanks, Booth," she said softly as he turned off the engine.

"For what?" he asked as he gathered her stuff, leaning over the backseat to get it all for her. She opened her mouth to protest, but then thought better of it and just let him continue. She instead answered his question.

"For offering to come visit Zach with me."

"Hey, no problem, Bones," he responded lightly, smiling so that his brown eyes sparkled just enough to get her off track staring at him. Self-consciously she looked away as he turned to climb out, and she hurriedly did so on her side as well, heading around the front of the SUV and insisting on taking her bag away from him to carry by herself. He had enough with his own bag, anyways.

"What time is Parker arriving at?" she asked as they headed into the building and started the walk up the stairs.

Booth glanced at his watch. "Around five... we've still got a few hours."

She nodded and then stood aside as he fumbled with his keys. She rolled her eyes and snatched them from him, nearly making him drop his bag in the process as she turned and easily found the right one. A moment later she had the door standing open and they both dumped their loads on the floor and looked around the apartment.

"Ugh, I need to clean," she said, wrinkling her nose.

He laughed, "Looks fine to me."

"Yes, well you're a man. I see dust everywhere in here, and the carpet could probably use a good vacuum..."

"That's nice, Bones; what exactly would you have said if I told you were being a typical woman by finding the need to clean?"

"I would have found that offensive," she said with a shrug as she walked to the closet and rummaged through it for the duster.

She was pretty sure he rolled his eyes, but she didn't comment, just smirked to herself over how easy it was to get a reaction out of him. Then she proceeded to attack every exposed surface in the room. A coughing fit from Booth ensued, and he very quickly vanished into the kitchen. She could hear him going through the cabinets, and assumed he was looking for good ideas for what to have for supper with Parker.

"Any luck?" she called around the corner as she plugged in the vacuum.

"We have like... nothing," he responded. With a sigh she leaned the heavy machine against the wall and went to go see exactly what 'nothing' meant. It could be a variety of things, since Booth wasn't one to count her 'overly healthy' products as actual food.

A moment later she was frowning, though, as she was forced to agree almost entirely with Booth's assessment. The kitchen did appear to be pretty lacking in most of their usual supplies. They'd have to head out for a grocery run sometime this weekend, most likely.

"Pizza?" Booth asked, a hopeful edge to his tone.

She shook her head in amusement, but ended up agreeing to that plan. At least they wouldn't be required to do any cooking tonight.

With nothing to do, he settled for digging through her apartment in search of things that might interest an eight year old, while the roaring of the vacuum filled the silence and made communication challenging, to say the least.

"Why on earth do you have one of those?" Booth half-shouted. She just barely managed to make out the question over the noise.

"So I can _clean,_ maybe?" she shouted back.

"What?"

"So I can clean my apartment!"

"I can't hear you!"

With a whirring sound the vacuum shut off and the fan noise slowed to a stop.

"I have a vacuum for the obvious reason of the necessity to vacuum the carpeting that I have."

"Why don't you just have one of those, you know, Swiffer things?"

"I don't know what that means."

He chuckled. "They sell them like... everywhere. It's like a mini vacuum, Bones, that doesn't have a cord. Most of all, it's _quiet_."

"And what if I like this one?"

He rolled his eyes, "Only you," he said, throwing his hands up in the air. "Only you, Bones."

"Only me what?" she asked, now feeling that old sense that the rest of the world understood what was happening and she was left behind, isolated by her cluelessness and her inability to change it.

"You know, it's just that it's a response that I could only ever expect from you," he said, grinning. He pulled her down on the couch next to him, stretching his legs onto the coffee table and throwing an arm around her shoulders as he pulled her closer up against him. "I don't know what I'd do without you, you know," he added, his eyes sparkling as he kissed her gently. She pulled away slightly, and he tilted his head to one side, reading her face in a matter of seconds. "Hey, I wasn't trying to be mean, Bones. You're unique; I love that. And you know I'd never have it any other way."

She nodded, still not really sure how they'd gone from vacuums to this. She'd lost him at 'Swiffer.'

"You're still confused," he stated. She sighed and nodded.

"Okay," he thought for a second, "Right, listen, you said, in this whole 'I like it may way' attitude sorta way, that you would rather have that large noisy vacuum that you have to lug around on a cord instead of a simple and quiet one. And you said it just because I suggested the other one was better than the one you have. Am I right?" She nodded, scowling her admittance to this fact. "So I said that only you would say that, and I think I'm right on that point too. See? Now, can I kiss you?"

She answered by pressing her lips to his first. Sometimes conversations with Booth ended in the strangest places or on the most different topics... but somehow he always managed to twist them around to an explanation of how much he loved her. She had to admit, only to herself, that she did rather enjoy that.

They separated for air, his forehead rested against hers and a satisfied smile on his lips and on hers as well.

"Well, come on," he said, standing abruptly and pulling her to her feet as well. "You finish up with your... vacuuming, and I'll go organize the guest bedroom. Then I'll run over to my old apartment, or should I say, my _storage unit,_ and get some of Parker's stuff that's over there. That'll leave us plenty of time to order the pizza and relax with some tv for a while before Parker gets here."

* * *

"Pepperoni!" the energetic voice shouted loudly. Small brown eyes, exact duplicates of his father's, shone eagerly as the pizza slice was placed in front of him.

She laughed softly at his excitement as she got herself a slice from the opposite half of the pizza and sat down in between the two Booths.

"How come you have veggies on yours?" Parker asked, wrinkling his nose up as he peered over at her dish.

"Bones is a vegetarian, Park," Booth explained for her. "You know what that means, don't you?"

"We learned about that at school!" Parker exclaimed. "My teacher, she, she's a, a... vege-tabla-rian, too."

"Vegetarian," she pronounced slowly for him.

"Vege-tarian," he repeated at an exaggerated pace. Then he grinned and shoved the pizza into his mouth, digging into the greasy pepperoni.

"He just started school last week," Booth told her. "They've already started in with new vocab words like you wouldn't... okay, well, maybe you _would_ believe... but I'm pretty sure we never had anything at that level when I was in second grade."

"I had early higher-level reading experience when I was in grade school," she remembered thoughtfully. "Is there a higher education level system set up at his school."

Booth frowned, "I'd have to ask Rebecca," he admitted, and he didn't look very happy about not knowing the detail on his own. She changed the subject to pull it away from how he was frustrated about not being involved as much as he'd like in his son's life.

"So, Parker, are you doing any sports?"

"Oh, yeah! Dad's teaching me some football moves _he_ used to do! Aren't you, dad?"

"You bet, bud. You're gunna show Bones later this weekend, aren't you?"

"Can I?" his eyes lit up.

"Of course. Bones said earlier she'd love to see you play."

They ate for a while in silence, Parker devouring the pizza slice faster than even Booth did his. When it had been eaten down until only the crust remained, the boy grabbed a napkin and messily wiped at the sauce around his mouth before he spoke again.

"Mom said you were living here now," he said rather bluntly to his father, who almost choked on his latest bite of pizza. "Are you?"

"Yes, he is," she saved him from having to answer by speaking up while he took a hasty drink of water.

"Right... I was going to talk to you about this later." He glanced at her, and she realized that he'd intended to tell Parker without her there. Probably in case Parker disliked the idea of his father dating, even though Booth had seemed pretty confident before about his son probably thinking it would be awesome. "Parker, Bones is my... girlfriend. So I live here... sort of like how Mark lives at home with you and mom."

Parker scrunched his face up and looked back and forth between them. For a moment she was concerned that he was going to complain or say something that Booth might not like... but instead he asked, "You aren't gunna like... kiss, are you?"

Booth laughed, "No, Parker, no cooties around you, don't worry."

Instantly the boy's face smoothed out, and he smiled contently. "Can I have more pizza, please?"

She laughed, and took his plate to go get him another slice. As she cut it, she heard Booth ask. "You're okay with that, right, bud?"

Parker leaned exaggeratedly forward, and she paused where she was, watching out of the corner of her eye. "Dad, you lied," he said in an attempted whisper that was still rather loud. "You said you didn't _like_ like her."

"Sometimes people don't like to admit things like that," he replied in an equally not quiet whisper. "Like Bones... she wouldn't admit _she_ like liked me either."

He giggled and sat back in his seat, thanking her as she handed him the plate with the new slice of pepperoni pizza on it. As she sat back down in her own chair, Booth reached over and slid his hand on top of hers, smiling warmly at her. She laughed slightly and smiled back.

Across the table, Parker's eyes flicked back and forth between them, and he promptly covered his eyes. They both laughed.

"What would you like to do tonight, kiddo?" Booth asked, and Parker immediately removed his hands from over his eyes, his face lighting up.

"Can we play Monopoly?" he asked eagerly. "And watch movies?"

"I suppose you'd like popcorn and ice cream, too, wouldn't you?" Booth teased. Parker's head bobbed up and down rapidly, his curls bouncing.

"I think that can be arranged," she said, addressing the boy. "Your father always seems to make sure we have ice cream in the house, even when there is nothing else in the cupboards. Although you'll have to teach me how to play Monopoly."

"You've _never_ played before?" Parker asked in a horrified voice, like it was the most shocking thing he'd ever heard.

She laughed slightly. "No, never."

Parker's eyes went to his father, as though expecting to see him equally horrified by this bit of info. She turned her gaze to him as well, and saw that he was more amused than surprised.

"That's not shocking, Bones, compared to some things that you don't know that the rest of us do. Park, you just finish up that slice and we'll explain to her." He turned to her and said in an exaggerated whisper, cupping his hand around him mouth, "Watch out for him; he's a dangerous little business-man."

Parker giggled and then hurriedly bit of the last large chunk of pizza before declaring himself finished and getting off the chair.

She saw that Booth had been about to tell him to take care of his dish, but the boy beat him to it and snatched up the plate on his own, carrying it to the trash to scrape the crusts in before setting it on the counter.

"Let's play!" he said, dashing ahead of them into the living room. Booth stood up, chuckling, and pulled her to her feet as well. With the child out of the room, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her softly. Then, grinning, he took her hand and pulled her with him into the other room, where Parker was already setting out the game board.

"I wasn't aware we had this game here," she said with a slight frown as she sat down.

"We didn't. I picked it up when I was over at my old place; he loves it and I had already guessed that it would be a great lesson in culture for you."

She nodded and then leaned forward with interest as the small child's hands pulled out money and started passing it out to each of them.

"Is there a specific method to this?" she asked, seeing that they'd each gotten two of certain bills, six of the twenties, and five of the lower ones.

"No ones really sure _why_ we start with this much. We just do," he said with a shrug. "Which piece do you want to be?"

"I'm the dog!" Parker claimed, rooting through a small section of the game box behind where the slots for money were and pulling out a little silver rendering of a Scottish terrier. "And dad's _always_ the car," he added, the pieces rattling together again as he dug through once more and came out with another little silver object, this one an old-style automobile. He placed them both on the spot which was aptly named "Go." She frowned, vaguely remembering some of this.

"I think my dad used to play this with my brother," she said, more to herself then to either of them. "I always liked card games better though... and then my chemistry set and schoolwork kept me kind of busy."

"I like crazy eights," Parker commented. A moment later he held up a handful of the small playing pieces, having managed to separate them from the rest of the items in the box. "Pick one," he instructed.

She glanced at Booth, not really sure what she should pick or if there was a distinct reasoning behind it. He was grinning, though, and she turned back with a frown and analyzed each of the ones that were remaining for her to choose from. Finally she picked up one that was shaped like a cowboy boot.

"The shoe. Good pick," Parker said, dumping the remaining ones back in with the green and red jumble of plastic.

"Actually, it's more of a boot," she corrected, setting it down next to Booth's car. "And the size orientation between this is far from logical."

"They're all the same size, Bones. That's the idea. And... it's a shoe. It always has been. Just... leave it at that, okay? Childhood board games aren't meant to make scientific sense."

"Shoots and Ladders actually has an underlying message of loss through misbehaving and reward through charity and good actions," she responded logically. He stared at her for a moment and then laughed.

"Oh, Bones... just take the dice and roll, okay?"

She shrugged and took the little cubes from Parker, tossing them lightly onto the game board. Almost immediately they were snatched up by the boy, who tossed them down himself.

"My eleven beats out your eight!" he crowed.

Booth seized the two white objects and cast them, scowling as he only got a three. He passed them back to his son. "Okay, you get to go first," he conceded.

"Yes!" he cheered, punching a fist into the air as he grabbed the dice up and shook them for several seconds before letting them loose.

She watched closely as they each took their turns, and grasped the concept rapidly. It was fairly simple, really, with not many challenging rules. If you landed on an un-owned property, you could buy it. If you landed on someone else's and they saw it before the dice fell again, you had to pay them the amount on their card. It was no wonder a child could understand it. And enjoy it, she admitted it, finding herself getting rather engaged in the game as she completed a trade with Booth in which she gained Indiana and him Tennessee, quickly adding several houses to her full collection of red properties.

"You said you never played before," Parker complained as he passed her another fee for landing on one of her three railroads.

"I learn fast," she said as means of explanation.

"Because you're so smart?"

She smiled, "Yes, I suppose so."

Booth was chuckling, probably at her lack of modesty, but she didn't spare him a glance for it. After all, it was from Booth's influence that the boy probably came up with the reasoning to phrase his question in such a way.

When the bowl of popcorn they'd gotten themselves was dwindling down to almost nothing, Parker asked about the movie, and Booth complied by crawling the short few feet over to the cabinet underneath where the tv was mounted.

"We've got my entire DVD collection to choose from... so what will it be?"

That was yet another thing amid the mass of which had found its way into her apartment. Slowly, more and more of his things were taking up the empty spaces of her apartment, and she found that she didn't mind... that she actually enjoyed it. The presence of his own personal items all around made the place seem far more like it was both of theirs, rather than just hers with him living there. And she liked that a great deal... it was something she'd never had with anyone else she'd ever been with. But of course it was one among the many things that made her relationship with him so much more meaningful and different than any of the rest she'd experienced in her life.

"Finding Nemo!" Parker immediately decided. For once, she actually recognized the title, and she even knew that it was the one about the fish. But she had no idea about the rest of it.

"Okay, Nemo it is... and Bones, you have to promise not to correct all the scientific errors you see."

She laughed, "Why, are there a lot of them?"

"I wouldn't know; I don't focus on them. Just enjoy the storyline, and don't worry about the inaccuracies or whatever affecting the knowledge my son possesses."

"I promise," she said, teasingly crossing her heart with one finger. Parker finished arranging his latest acquisition of houses on the Virginia properties, and passed the dice off to his father just as the menu came up. She reached over and hit the enter button on the remote for him.

"Come on, six, come on, six..." he chanted under his breath as the cubes rattled together inside his hands.

"Saying it out loud doesn't help your chances, you know," she pointed out amusedly.

He scowled and let them fall onto the board. "Six!" he hooted, "Ha!"

She rolled her eyes as he slid the little car down onto Free Parking and collected the large sum of paper money from the center of the board. She and Parker groaned at the same time as he began to gleefully count his winnings out loud.

The sound of the movie in the background drew her attention away as she picked up the dice and juggled them back and forth. Two clown fish were talking with one another. They appeared to be a couple.

"I don't like the beginning," Parker said, frowning as he glanced towards the screen.

"Why not?" she asked, her eyes not leaving the colorful images on the screen.

"It's sad," he answered. She glanced at him and then back at the screen. A minute later, as Parker took his next turn, she realized what he meant.

"This is a children's movie?" She muttered to Booth as Parker absorbed himself in counting out how much money he had for more houses.

"Yeah, the opening shocked me a bit the first time, too..." he admitted. "I suppose it was necessary, though, for the storyline to follow the arch that it does. You're a writer; I remember when you killed Andy's sister. Unhappy, yes, but necessary. Isn't that what you answered when I asked why you would do something awful like that to such a great character like Andy?"

"Yes," she answered begrudgingly. She hadn't really enjoyed that particular part of the latest book, but it had been an important step in the relationship of Andy and Kathy. She'd needed it, even though she'd heard that her readers had been rather devastated. Cynthia Lister had been rather well-liked upon her introduction, being the one who had first tried to get the two of them together. She remembered Angela comparing herself to the character and also how she'd been rather upset upon learning that she'd been killed. That had taken quite a bit of explaining of the dynamic necessary for certain outcomes... something she wasn't entirely certain Ange had appreciated to the fullest, having still complained 'But she was like... me!.'

The Monopoly game finished in a victorious win for Parker around an hour later, him having wiped Booth out of the game after he'd twice landed on the boy's hotel on Pennsylvania, and then sending her into bankruptcy by way of North Carolina. He gloated for a short while before his interest went to ice cream, and when Booth returned with a bowl of it the characters on the screen were just leaving the EAC. True to her word, she refrained from correcting the inaccuracy of the scene out loud.

Parker situated himself in between the two of them on the couch, clutching his ice cream bowl in one hand and the spoon in the other. Booth somehow still managed to get his arm wrapped around her shoulders over the top of the boy's head, though.

When the end credits finally rolled, Parker was yawning and she was feeling rather tired herself.

"Come on, bud, let's get you tucked in for the night," Booth said, getting to his feet and pointing towards the guest bedroom.

"Awe, alright," he said, sighing. Another yawn spread his jaws apart, and, rubbing at his eyes, he led the way down the hall.

"You ready for bed, too, or did you want to stay up a bit later... get some drinks, maybe watch another movie?" he asked her, pausing in the entrance to the hallway.

"I'm tired," she answered, "And you look like you are, too. Plus, tomorrow will most likely be a long and eventful day. We'll need the sleep."

He smiled and nodded, "Alright, Bones, I'll just get him all set for the night and we'll get some shut-eye."

Once he'd vanished up the hall, she hesitated, and then picked up Parker's dish and quickly took care of it, tucking it into the dishwasher. With nothing else to do, she made her way to the bedroom, intending to get changed and then get her teeth brushed and anything else that needed to be done before she slept.

But she found herself pausing near the doorway to the guest room, where two voices drifted out through where it was partly open.

"Pancakes for breakfast, how's that sound?" Booth was saying.

"Yum!" was Parker's excited answer, and quickly following it, much more quietly, was, "...Dad?"

"Yeah, bud?"

"Do you love Bones?"

An obviously startled pause, then, "...Yeah, Park, I do."

"Mom says she loves Mark," Parker said, and even she could pick up on the distaste in the child's tone. "I like him... but mom asked what I'd say if he stayed with us. Like... get _married_."

A long pause. "What did you say to that?" Booth finally asked.

"I said it was okay... but I don't know," the boy answered uncertainly. "I like Bones better than Mark," he added suddenly. "She's really nice."

"Is Mark nice?" Booth asked. She didn't miss the way his voice tensed slightly on the question.

"Yeah," Parker answered, and she assumed he'd probably shrugged. "But he doesn't like to play games or anything fun. He works like... all the time. And he always reminds me about doing my homework and chores. Bones is way more fun. And she's smarter than him, too."

Booth chuckled, "Bones is smarter than a lot of people, Park."

There was another long pause.

"Are you going to marry Bones?"

She froze in place, her heart stopping for a second before it started to race.

"I don't know yet, Parker. That's not the kind of decision that people can make really quickly. But... I would like to, yes."

Her lips parted slightly in shock, even though his answer really shouldn't have surprised her, and then she stepped further away from the door, but not far enough that she couldn't hear Parker say, "I'd like that better than mom marrying Mark."

"Well, that's your mother's decision to make, bud. Now, get some sleep."

"Okay, dad. G'night."

"Goodnight, Parker."

She swiftly disappeared into the bedroom, shutting the door softly behind her as she rapidly changed into her nightwear.

Still not sure of exactly what to make of what she'd just heard, she was certain of one thing, and that was that she was not going to let him know that she'd listened in. So when he knocked softly and entered a short while later... he found her lying comfortably on her side with her eyes closed, breathing steadily in and out. Only after he'd climbed in beside her and gently pulled her up against him before he drifted off, did she allow her eyes to flicker open, and her thoughts to run rampant through her mind.

* * *


	14. Chapter 14

***Gulp* So... I haven't updated in... I don't know how long. I really hope you will continue to read this story even though I'm a terrible updater. I promise I will update this next one faster. Really. **

**I hope you enjoy this chapter! (and I don't own Bones, although I do own season 1-4 on DVD)**

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* * *

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"I think apple slices would be a bit healthier than chocolate chips, Booth," she said, raising an eyebrow as she watched him sprinkle the little candy pieces into the pancake batter. He laughed.

"Explain that to any eight year old and actually get an enthusiastic response, and I'll be highly impressed."

"Healthy eating at a young age can greatly affect nutrition later in life. If a child grows up relying on junk food and rejecting anything healthy, they'll be much more likely to grow up not considering health to be important, and continue with the pattern of eating which was early engrained into-"

"Okay, okay!" He cut her off. "It's Rebecca that makes sure he eats balanced meals and all that. And he likes oranges and corn on the cob, I do know that. But, Bones, I only get him every so often for a weekend, and I like to give him something his mother usually wouldn't, to make it more... special. _She_ would be putting in apples, believe me."

"I... accept that," she agreed thoughtfully. "Although, it might turn him more against his mother and make him favor you more."

"Not a bad side-effect," he muttered.

She stared at him in concern for a moment, then glanced towards the hallway leading to her bedroom and the guest room. "How late will he usually sleep 'til?" she asked, changing the subject.

He shrugged. "Maybe about eight, sometimes nine depending on how late of a night he had and how long of a day... you know, typical factors towards how late anyone gets up. He'll be in here pretty soon though, once the bacon and the pancake smell reaches him."

Another nod from her. A memory flickered into her mind... waking up on a Saturday morning to the smell of French toast and eggs... running to get Russ up and going to watch cartoons while they waited for the food to be ready...

"You want nuts in yours?" The question startled her back to reality.

"Um... yeah, sure. Thanks."

He nodded and scooped a handful of nuts out of the nearby bag, letting them rain down onto the pancake next to the chocolate chip dotted one.

"You've been... acting kind of out of it all morning," he said hesitantly. "Is... everything okay?"

Damn. She'd been hoping he wouldn't have noticed anything out of the ordinary, but apparently her lack of normal conversation since they'd woken up and her tendency to refer to facts rather than normal early-morning chat had caught his attention. She shouldn't have expected less, but still, now she was going to have to come up with an explanation. And not the truth.

"It's nothing. I guess I'm just... I'm not used to having a child around. I don't want to do something wrong, or say the wrong thing... I'm not very good with kids."

He snorted, and she frowned in confusion. "Oh come on, Bones," he said, throwing his hands slightly up in the air when he noticed the look on her face. "You seriously don't give yourself enough credit. 'Not very good with kids,'" he muttered, using air quotes as he repeated her last words. Another snort of disbelief. "You barely try at all, and Parker adores you. That's called something like natural talent."

She made a sound of assent, and internally felt a warm rush of pride at hearing him say he thought she was good with his son, as well as a sort of relief that he had not seen right through the quickly thought up cover story. They faded into a sort of silence, the sizzling pancake batter the only sound in the air. She occupied herself quickly with getting out plates and cups and pouring them each some orange juice.

How could she tell him what she'd heard last night, what was _really _worrying her? She couldn't bring it up, not when it would lead into a discussion about marriage itself, and... that was something that she really did not want added to her plate for today. It would only make things... challenging. And she knew she'd end up hurting him with all her reasoning for not wanting to get married.

"Bacon!" a little voice exploded, and she nearly jumped. Turning, she saw Parker grinning from just behind her, staring up with eyes that shone with excitement at his father.

Booth laughed and ruffled the already-rumpled curly blonde hair, "That's right, little man. Bacon and yummy pancakes!"

"With choco chips?"

He gave her a look with a raised eyebrow, which clearly translated to 'told you so!' and then he grinned as he turned back to Parker and nodded.

"You got it, bud."

"Parker, don't you think it would be nice to have some banana pieces in with the chocolate? You like bananas and chocolate together, don't you?"

"Mom and I dipped bananas in chocolate and froze them before. That was awesome."

She grinned, "So, would you like to try some banana in your pancake?"

He tilted his head to the side and stared upward, scrunching up his face as he contemplated the idea. Finally, he nodded vigorously, "Okay. Bones... do you like bananas and chocolate together?"

"Yes, I do," she answered, still smiling. She cast a sidelong glance at Booth, who rolled his eyes in defeat. A moment later banana pieces had been pressed into the still soft parts of the batter on Parker's pancake, and she was still grinning triumphantly while he mocked looking hurt by this.

"So, what should we pack for lunch today?" Booth asked, directing the question mostly at his son. She decided to answer anyways when the boy didn't speak immediately.

"We should go grocery shopping before we do anything else. I want to pick up some watermelon and some fresh apples, plus we're low on almost everything we have at the moment anyways. And I'm sure Parker could find some things to bring along with us on the picnic that he might like."

"Yeah!" the boy said, grinning hopefully at his father, who nodded.

"Sounds like a plan to me, Bones."

* * *

"No, Booth... those go in the right cabinet."

He rolled his eyes, opening the other door and sliding in the boxes of crackers.

"I suppose you already have a cookie spot picked out, too?"

"Well, I've never really _had_ cookies here before... I suppose we should probably get a jar."

He slid the package into the corner of the counter and then pulled a jug of milk out of one of her reusable grocery bags and passed it to her.

A crunching sound indicated that Parker was attempting to help, and she turned away from the refrigerator to take the bag of chips from him before they could become any more crushed. She tucked them into the correct storage location, and then suggested that maybe he could put the canned goods into her lazy-Susan cabinet. The small boy readily agreed, curls bouncing up and down, and set to work.

She smiled softly at him as he diligently put one can after the other into an opening, a look of utmost seriousness on his face.

Booth grinned as well, passing her another milk jug.

"Well, I don't have a picnic basket or anything like that... but I suppose we could use just a normal basket... I might have one in my hall closet, although I'm not sure if it's big enough."

"I'll get it," Booth offered, stepping around her and heading up the hallway. She just nodded to herself and continued to take care of the groceries.

"I think this will do," Booth said, placing the basket on the counter. She felt him step up behind her, and then his warm arms wrapped around her waist, and he softly kissed the back of her neck. "You've got enough towels in that closet for an army, Bones. They almost killed me when I tried to get that basket out."

She laughed and tilted her head back against his shoulder. "Sorry if my towels are so threatening to you, Booth. Maybe you need to work out more."

He chuckled and released his hold on her. "We nearly done with this?" he asked, glancing around at the empty bags that now littered the floor and counters.

"Yes, I think so-" she started, but Booth interrupted.

"Parker, what are you doing?"

She glanced over towards where the boy was now finished with the cans, but was still sitting in the corner, apparently staring intently at the wooden door.

"Waiting for you to finish with the mushy stuff," he said, and she was fairly certain he'd probably scrunched up his face as he said it, the typical sign of 'ew' from him.

Booth laughed, and then walked over and pulled the boy up to his feet. "Come on, little man, help me and Bones pack for this picnic of ours."

It didn't take them long at all to fill the basket to overflowing, and then Booth insisted on digging through all of her storage locations to find a properly-colored blanket. Apparently it was important that it be red and white checkered.

They didn't have any luck with that, though, and they ended up settling for a blue one, having wasted quite a bit of time searching fruitlessly. But... she had to admit that the search itself had actually been enjoyable. Booth found a variety of objects in her closet that she'd forgotten she even had, including a box of comic books which she offered no explanation on, several rolls of colored duct tape, and a lava lamp.

"Seriously, Bones?" he had asked, raising an eyebrow as he held up a copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. She'd actually blushed.

"Well... I got it a while back and just never read it," was the only excuse she offered. She didn't admit, however, that she'd actually read the first few chapters and had simply become too swamped with work to have time to read it. That had been years ago, though. And she wasn't about to tell him that she'd actually been pretty happy with having the opportunity to fill herself in on the entire story. After all, she was nearly finished with book five at the moment.

They arrived at the local park not long after she'd neatly folded up the blanket and led the way down to her car, and Parker took off running, eagerly searching for the 'perfect' location.

Booth tossed the football he'd brought along lightly from hand to hand, and then smiled mischievously at her. She looked at him warily.

"Come on, Bones, go long!" he cried.

"Booth..." she complained, rolling her eyes. But he didn't give her much opportunity to protest... he placed the basket on the ground and started running in the opposite direction from her. She sighed, and took a few steps away from the basket, following him with her eyes as he got farther away.

"Here it comes!" he shouted, throwing back his arm and then letting the ball fly. She judged the distance and the angles, and then dashed to the left and back a little... with a quick lunge she snagged the ball from the air and then held it up, grinning with stupid triumph. She didn't care... this was someplace she was supposed to have fun, after all, wasn't it?

"Touchdown!" Parker shouted, running towards them. "Throw it to me, Bones, throw it to me!"

She laughed, and then positioned the ball in her hand the way she'd seen it done before. It couldn't be too difficult, given the coordination skills she now possessed, so very different from those she'd had as a teenager with not athletic talent at all. And it was actually immensely satisfying, the feeling she got as she thrust the ball forward through the air and saw it spiral towards the boy.

"Whoa!" Parker shouted, attempting to run far enough back to catch it. He didn't reach it before it hit the ground, but that didn't seem to bother him much. "Bones, Bones! You throw like... better than dad!"

The three of them met up at the basket again, and Parker's wide eyes focused on her. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Actually, Parker, I never learned it, per se... I just judged off of observing experience and general calculation skills. Plus, Booth mentioned something before about the way you're supposed to flick your wrist to get it to spin."

"Not fair, Bones," Booth complained, although she could tell he was actually impressed. "You're not supposed to show me up and then act like it the easiest thing in the world. Here, give me that," he added, and Parker lightly tossed the football into his dad's hands. "I'll show you a _real_ throw."

"Whatever you say," she replied, grinning.

"Go ahead, buddy, run for it!" he said to his son, who immediately took off as fast as his little legs would go.

"Seriously, you're telling me you've _never_ thrown a football before, and you were able to do that?" he asked, glancing at her as Parker got further away from them.

She shrugged. "I actually have quite a bit of natural athletic skill, Booth. It's developed after years of martial arts and karate training. I've attempted basketball a few times and find that I'm quite adept at aim and precision."

"And yet you still used to pick on sports?"

"Truthfully, sports _are_ a way for males to show off what they perceive to be their best talents and their worthiness as mates. Sometimes, that can be a foolish task and downright ridiculous to the levels some of them take it. Plenty often, women are attracted to men for different reasons than just athletic ability."

He chuckled, and then murmured, "Okay, watch this..." he positioned his hand carefully on the football, and then let it fly with more force than she had been able to generate on hers. It arced up rather high as it traveled.

"Not bad," she commented, although the throw was very impressive. Honestly, she was trying to get a reaction out of him. Which she succeeded at.

"_Not bad?_" he questioned, sounding hurt.

She punched him lightly in the shoulder. "I was kidding, Booth. You are very athletically talented, and I'm sure Parker has learned a lot from you in that area."

"Thank you," he said, lifting his head up in the air in an over embellished show of pride. She laughed and shook her head.

"I'm going to get the picnic set up, if that's okay with you."

"Sure, I'll help," he offered, bending down with her as they both reached at the same time for the blanket. She pulled it out and he grabbed an end of it as it unfolded in their hands, and they spread it out on a smooth patch of grass.

"You threw it a lot farther than he could have gone to catch it, you know," she said, glancing towards the retreating figure of Parker.

"I was showing off," Booth offered, but he frowned and stood up. "I'll keep an eye on him."

She nodded and started to set out the paper plates they'd brought. Luckily there wasn't much of a breeze at the moment, but she still gathered a few nearby rocks to weigh them down just in case.

"That was _awesome!_" Parker's voice drifted to them as he started back, ball in hand.

Booth smirked and glanced at her with raised eyebrows. "See? Awesome."

She laughed and didn't look up from her task.

By the time the boy had arrived, all the food had been set out, and she'd placed their respective meals on their plates. Peanut butter and jelly sandwich for Parker, ham and cheese sandwich for Booth, and a simple salad for her. She passed out the watermelon, taking some for herself and offering an extra apple to Parker, who questioned, instead, about whether or not she'd packed dessert.

"I figured we'd stop by the diner on the way back... you two can get some pie and I'll find something else."

"I love the pie at the diner," Parker said eagerly, speaking around a mouthful of gooey sandwich.

"Mouth closed, Park," Booth said, raising an eyebrow. The boy's jaw snapped shut and he chewed exaggeratedly.

The boy ravenously finished the rest of the sandwich within minutes, getting jelly all over his chin and around his lips.

"Can we play more football now?" he asked eagerly.

"Wait for me to finish, buddy."

"I'm done; I'll play with you, Parker," she spoke up, passing him a napkin as she did so.

He took it and scrubbed at his face, jumping quickly to his feet when he was finished. He snatched up the football and took off running.

She laughed and stood as well. "Hurry up and finish, slowpoke," she teased him.

He scowled, "I wasn't aware it was a race, Miss Speedy."

"Throw it to me, Parker!" she shouted, ignoring Booth's latest comment.

"Okay!" the boy called back, and she watched him hurl the ball with all his strength. She had to dash forward to catch it, but she had to say she was quite impressed with the throw.

"Taught him well, didn't I?" Booth said, grinning as he came to stand next to her. "Hey, Parker!" he shouted, "Bones has the ball! What does that mean?"

The boy tilted his head to the side and then started dashing towards them.

"I'm confused," she stated, frowning. "What does that mean?"

"It means now he's going to _tackle_ you," he whispered in her ear, still grinning from ear to ear. Her eyes widened and she glanced in the direction of the small boy that was rapidly getting closer. "I think... you should _run._"

"Thanks for the advice," she muttered, although she knew her eyes gleamed with humor. Then she promptly spun on her heel and took off, shouting back over her shoulder, "Where's the goal?"

"It's called an _end zone_, Bones!"

"Whatever!"

"The tree line!" Parker answered her question for her. She turned to look back and saw the child hurtle past his father. She hesitated for a moment, wondering what Booth would do in this situation. Should she attempt to succeed and score, or let the boy tackle her?

Booth would probably take the latter option.

Smiling slightly to herself, she slowed her pace just slightly, calculating it so that he'd be able to stop her just before she scored.

And sure enough, she was almost to the trees when a small body hurtled into her legs and she tumbled forward, turning herself as she did so that she caught Parker and landed on her back.

"Gotcha," he stated, grinning the same grin as his father.

She chuckled, "I see that."

"Did you see, dad, did y'see?" he asked eagerly as Booth strolled over to them.

"You bet I did, Park. You didn't break Bones, now did you?"

"Uhh..." he said, eyes wide. They flicked to her almost worriedly.

"Relax, Parker, I'm perfectly fine," she said with a smile, and then pulled herself into a sitting position. "What's that, Booth?"

"Uhh..." he stammered, sounding exactly like his son.

"It's a camera," Parker stated matter-of-factly.

She gave him a disapproving look.

"Oh, come on, Bones, all in good fun, you know? Besides, I couldn't resist. The two of you... well you'll see once we get it developed."

"A digital camera would be far more efficient," she commented, getting to her feet and pulling Parker up on his.

"Yeah, well I like traditional," he defended, tucking the disposable camera back in his pocket.

"One more thing I'll never fully understand."

"Hey, it's one more thing to love, right, Bones?"

She rolled her eyes, but when Parker picked up the ball and started walking ahead of them back towards the center of the field, she leaned towards him and kissed him softly. He smiled softly at her, and his eyes melted to that color that she loved so much. If Parker wasn't there, she was fairly certain she would have pulled them into another kiss.

But as it was, the boy dragged her away from Booth only a moment later, insisting that she was on his team, because he really wanted to beat his dad.

Booth looked mildly hurt by that, but she knew he was doing it for her benefit. She whispered teasingly in his ear before they started the so-called game, "Ready to lose, Booth?"

"Oh, you're going down, Bones," he hissed back.

"Hey, no whispering!" Parker called indignantly from a short distance away.

She laughed and pulled away, trying to imagine what on earth things would be like without these simple relaxing weekends that she'd been enjoying so much now that she had Booth.

She decided she didn't want to, and then caught the ball and, laughing, dodged past her partner... who was so much more than that, and always would be.

* * *

**I don't deserve feedback after how long it took to put this up, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't love it. Next chapter I will jump ahead to October, because I want to make sure I get to post the Christmas chapter when it's actually Christmas.  
**

**(Oh, and if anyone knows how to legally get Parker in Booth's custody _without killing Rebecca_ I'd love to have some suggestions.)  
**


	15. Chapter 15

**Time leap! I wanted to catch up to the present, and what better way to do that than Halloween, when it's only two days away? :) **

* * *

He set the framed picture back down on her desk, grinning at it as he did so, and then dropped into her chair and tilting it back so he could place his feet up on the wooden surface. She probably wouldn't be pleased when she came in and found him like this, but it was far too comfy for him to care. Besides, he was still pretending to be annoyed that she wouldn't tell him what she was going to wear tomorrow.

After all, it wasn't like she could go out trick-or-treating in that Wonder Woman costume she loved so much. The weather wasn't going to be very favorable towards that one, and besides, it wasn't exactly the kind of costume one should wear while walking the streets with an eight year old... even if he had no personal objections to it.

He'd already picked out his; this year he was going as Batman, since Parker had insisted on being Robin and he wanted their costumes to match. Bones had made it clear that under no circumstances was she going to play some sort of female role from the movie. He'd found it rather amusing, actually, that she'd immediately assumed that the female role was the damsel in distress. And she was mostly right about that one, even though she'd never seen any superhero movies. He'd immediately promised her a marathon of Spider-Man and some of the other favorites of his, to which Parker had exclaimed he wanted to be in on, while she looked like she wished she hadn't brought up any objection to the concept of helpless female characters at all.

Searching the apartment for the costume hadn't helped, and he was fairly certain Angela was in on it. Knowing her, she was probably making the outfit and storing it at her own place. And she probably loved the fact that Bones was keeping Booth in the dark about the whole thing.

He was rather tempted to go ask her about it, actually, but he knew that she wouldn't tell him even if he did, so he chose to stay put.

At least he'd convinced Bones to leave early today. It was a Friday after all, and he wasn't about to let her spend it all here. Not when he had plans to take her out to a nice restaurant and then watch scary movies together back at the apartment. He had no doubt she'd pick out all the factors that made them _un_scary, but he wasn't too bothered. It would still be fun and it would still be with her. What else really mattered besides that last fact, anyways?

"Booth!" her voice exclaimed. He glanced up, grinning cheekily as he saw her standing in the doorway, hands placed disapprovingly on her hips. "How many times have I told you not to sit in my seat?"

"Really? I thought you'd be more annoyed with my shoes on your desk..."

She'd reached him by that point, though, and promptly dumped the chair over sideways in that way that she could, where he never suspected it and where other people were usually quite confused as to how she'd even managed to do so. That was his Bones, strongest woman he'd ever known... inside and out.

He chuckled as he staggered sideways and caught himself against her bookcase.

She scowled and then sat herself down and brushed at the surface, removing whatever invisible damage he had done to her desk. Then she rearranged all the items, ending with the picture frame that he'd picked up to look at. He watched as a soft smile graced her lips as she straightened it. It was the picture he'd taken that day in the park, of her and Parker with the football on the ground after the kid's successful tackle. She was laughing with her arms around the boy, and he was grinning, his curly hair tousled.

"So, you going to be ready to go in a minute?"

"Yes," she answered with a nod, then frowned as she tapped at her keyboard and slid the mouse over its pad. "I just have to... check my mail..." she muttered.

"Anything from your publisher?" he questioned.

She smiled, "No, not yet. I just sent her the latest manuscript, I can't expect a response immediately."

"Yeah, well, I'd have read the entire thing by now if you'd given it to me this morning."

"Ah, but I didn't," she said, her finger pointed at him, "See the difference?"

He sighed and leaned against the bookcase with his shoulder. "Will you ever let me read one of your books before its published."

"No."

"Why not?" he said, pouting slightly, to which she laughed.

"Because, Booth, that's the way it works. I never let anyone read my work before its published. You're no different."

"Au contraire, you _have _let people read your books before they were available to the general public, Bones. Remember the creepy 'I want you to join my clan' guy?"

She glared at him. "His name was David. He was very nice, but he... had a different belief set than my own."

Booth raised an eyebrow, and she sighed.

"Seriously? You aren't jealous, are you? Booth, I'm dating _you_ now, in case you've forgotten."

"Believe me, I haven't forgotten. Am I still amazed by it, though? You bet. And you know I love you." He grinned softly at her, reaching out a hand to stroke down her cheek. She leaned closer, and then he tilted his lips to meet hers softly, although it quickly became more forcibly. They broke apart, breathing heavily, and she grinned at him, laughing slightly as she caught her breath.

"No, you cannot read my book," she murmured softly, their faces only inches apart. Then she pulled back and slid her chair over closer to her computer, turning herself so her back was more towards him.

"So have you decided on a costume yet?"

"Seeing as I didn't give a favorable answer to the first question, I don't see why you bothered asking this one as well. I'm not going to tell you what it is."

"But you know what _I'm_ wearing!"

"Because you told me, which you did not have to do."

"Hmph," he sighed, staring at the ceiling while he tried to think.

"Hey, Bren, I thought you were... Oh, hi Booth," Ange said, grinning at him as she stood in the doorway. Her eyes went back to Brennan. "So, you are leaving soon, right?"

"As I just told him," she gestured over her shoulder in his general direction, "All I have to do is just answer a few emails and we'll be on our way."

"Good. I always say staying later here right before the weekend is lame, and its nice to see you sharing my sentiment. Even if we can't really go out clubbing anymore."

"When did we _ever_ go out clubbing?"

Ange shrugged, "Fine then, even if _I'm_ not going clubbing anymore. Jack said he had plans for us tonight, though, which are probably going to be far better than a sweaty dance floor anyways. What are you two doing?" she glanced back and forth between them.

He smiled, but inwardly he was thinking about how it seemed like his relationship with Bones was under a microscope whenever Angela was around. Ever since she and Hodgins had gotten back from their honeymoon she'd been intently watching them, and she'd been giving him these looks that he knew meant 'get a move on'. To be honest, he'd been careful to avoid her for a good week or so after her return because of it, but he hadn't been entirely successful with that.

_"Yeah, I can finish the sketch pretty soon... I've already got a start on it."_

_"Excellent. Thanks Ange," Bones said with a nod. _

_"No problem, sweetie. It's nice to have a case to work on again. Hey, Booth, can I borrow you for a minute?" The question was asked innocently enough, but he wasn't so stupid that he couldn't immediately see that she had much different plans than just a simple 'minute.' And it would certainly not be about any case either, as she probably wanted to make it look like to Brennan and to Hodgins, who was close by as well. Although... the bug man seemed to already be in on the plan. He cast Booth a half-amused half-sympathetic look as he and Angela went past and down off the platform._

_Ange shut her office door behind her, and then went across the room with long confident strides, reaching her holograph machine and spinning on the spot. She crossed her arms and leaned back against the edge of it. _

_"So, Booth." He didn't respond, just raised an eyebrow. Whatever she wanted to say, she didn't need any coaxing from him, he was sure. Sure enough, she was rather quick to move onwards, "I was gone for a month, and yet I see no change. Now, I'm not saying that's a bad thing... you two are adorable together, after all, but how long is it going to take you to just work up the courage?"_

_He groaned. He'd guessed at it, yes, and he should have expected this was what she wanted to talk about it, but with the thought already plaguing him every waking minute he was with Bones, he didn't need any extra pressure. _

_"Ange, to be honest, I don't really think this is-"_

_She waved him off, "Yeah, yeah, it's none of my business. I get it. But, you know, I've known Brennan for a very long time, and... well, let's just say that I know she'll come around to the concept. Even if it's in some rational or logical form, she'll still agree to it. And she'll like it a lot more than she wants to admit she would. Just answer this for me, okay? It _is_ in your plans, isn't it?"_

_He looked away, and then sighed and nodded dejectedly. Why was she always right whenever it came to these things? "Of course I want Bones to marry me, but it's really not as simple as you seem to think."_

_She nodded, "I get it, Booth. Don't give up, though, you got that? She loves you. A lot. And I know you love her too. That should be all you need. Plus a ring... maybe some kids down the line."_

_"Whoa! Uh, you don't think you could... stick to your own future planning?"_

_She grinned, "No problem. I'm here to help you, though, don't forget that."_

_"I don't think you'll let me," he said seriously. "Can I... go now?"_

_She ushered him towards the door with shooing motions, "Go ahead, go back to your girlfriend," she said, still smiling widely._

_Freed, he escaped back to the platform, receiving a slightly confused look from Bones, to which he made no response and quickly distracted her with questions about the remains in front of her._

"Hey, Booth?"

"What?" he pulled himself out of the stupor, having gotten distracted in the midst of the conversation the two women had been having.

"You weren't paying attention at all, were you?" Bones said reprovingly, her eyebrow arched.

"Sorry. Got distracted. What were you..?"

"I just promised Ange I'd be at her place tomorrow morning at eight to do some stuff."

Stuff meant finishing the costume, whatever it was, obviously. "What sort of stuff?"

"Girl stuff," Ange cut in, her tone definitively stating that it was the end of the matter. He chose not to argue or ask again.

"Well, since you're kidnapping my girlfriend tomorrow on me, I think it's about time I took her out of here. I'm starving, and I'm sure she is too."

"You know, I _am_ right here. And you aren't taking me anywhere without my consent."

He grinned. "I know you're right here," he murmured, leaning towards her to kiss her quickly. They both glanced at Ange, who had just broke into an even wider grin and looked like she might want to hug someone, maybe even both of them.

"Sorry," she apologized quickly. "I still just can't believe you two actually..." she broke off, shaking her head. "I've got to go, Hodgins and I have plans, too." Her eyes lit up suddenly as she said the words. With a quick wave she hurried out of the office, and through the glass door they saw her reach Hodgins and him wrap his arms around her and kiss her soundly. Then the two of them made their way out of the lab entrance doors, laughing together loudly enough that Booth could hear them even from behind the closed door.

"Shall we get going, then?" Booth suggested, holding his arm out gallantly.

She laughed, and then stepped into his arms and allowed herself to be led out of the office and then out of the lab. She even let him drive, which was rather impressive.

"Why the sudden willingness to go along with everything, Bones?" he questioned as he put the vehicle in park back at the apartment and undid his seatbelt.

Her shoulders shrugged slightly, "I thought it would make you happy since you were so annoyed earlier."

"I wasn't _actually_ annoyed, Bones, but thanks for the thought."

"Well, you were all bent out of shape over not knowing what I was being for Halloween, and I thought-"

"I'm just curious," he cut her off, waving a hand to dismiss what she'd said. "So I'm assuming that's what you're doing with Angela tomorrow morning?"

She laughed softly, "Yeah. To be honest, it was actually mostly her idea, although I had the starting concept. She got really excited though; I think it was mostly because she really wanted to spend some time together after she was gone for so long." She tilted her head to the side thoughtfully as she climbed out of the vehicle, and he shut his door and went around to meet her so they could walk inside together. "It's really nice having her back around... Hodgins, too. The lab feels..." she struggled to put together the rest, but he let her do it on her own without any help. He wanted to hear what she had to say. "It feels like home again," she said softly. "Is that silly, to think of it like that?"

"Not at all," he promised her warmly, "I'm glad you think so, actually, Bones. And you're right about it, really... the place seemed really empty while they were gone."

She nodded agreement.

"So, where exactly are we going tonight?"

"Ah, see, that's for me to know and you to find out."

"Booth," she groaned in complaint.

"Hey, you won't tell me what you're being for Halloween."

She rolled her eyes, but remained silent.

With a thump her bag landed on the ground next to the couch, and she turned to face him with an eyebrow raised. "You are going to tell me what sort of clothing I should wear, aren't you?"

"Nothing too fancy, Bones."

"Well, what are _you_ wearing?"

"Me?" He shrugged, "A tux."

She gave a noncommittal snort, "Oh yeah, not _too_ fancy," she said, shaking her head as she went into the bedroom. He chuckled to himself as he followed behind her.

"Here, let me just grab mine, and you're free to sort through your options while I change."

"Booth, just get changed in here. Besides, I might actually need some help picking one out," she added, scowling at the row of dressed, most of which she'd never worn but had, he knew, been donated by Angela.

He glanced at her back, not entirely at ease with the concept. They still weren't quite on _that_ level yet. Thankfully she hadn't been worrying about it, at least not out loud to him in the past month, and he didn't want it to come back out again. It felt like she was doubting him every time she insisted that she must not be good enough for him or something. And she was so much better than anyone else ever could be, no matter what the circumstances were or what she thought. It was just so hard to _convince_ her of it, even still.

She turned around to face him, and from the way her expression changed he knew his face had been too readable; she'd picked up on it.

"You aren't comfortable," she said, making it a statement rather than a question. Her eyes flashed briefly, but he was still able to read the emotion in them before they changed. She was hurt. He sighed.

"Bones, it's not that I don't..." he stared up at the ceiling, trying to think of some way to explain it to her. "I just don't... Bones, please don't take it wrong, okay? You always seem to think the worst of a situation and I really don't want you to this time. Can we... not do this now? Please?"

She stared at him for a long moment, her face blank, and then she nodded quickly and turned back around. He ran his hand over his face and then around to rub the back of his neck. He hesitated over whether or not he should just address it all right now, tell her how much he loved her and how he didn't want to do anything to hurt her, but eventually he decided to just remain silent. He stepped over behind her rather than getting into his tux, though, and he reached around and pulled out a dress from the center of the rack. It was black and sleeveless, and length-wise would fall just above her knees.

"This one would look beautiful on you," he murmured softly. She simply nodded and took it from him. Then she headed for the door, assumably to get changed in the bathroom. Now he grabbed her arm and stopped her. She turned back, staring at his hand around her wrist for a long moment. He released his grip on her, but she stayed where she was, clearly waiting for him to speak. He obliged quickly, stumbling over his words. "We can... just change in here, okay?"

Another long stare. Another nod. He stepped away from her, going around the bed to collect his tux from where he'd lain it on the other side earlier. She was watching him; he could tell from the feeling of her eyes following his back as he went.

Silently, the pair undressed.

He wasn't sure whether to turn and face the opposite wall, but somehow he knew that, no matter how much he might want to avoid the awkward situation, she would not appreciate that.

He hadn't seen her so exposed since... he didn't want to think about it, and yet it came to his mind unbidden. He forced the image away, shivering internally and focusing on getting his belt threaded through the loops the right way.

A moment later she'd pulled the dress on and a pair of shoes, and he'd just finished adjusting his bowtie. They stared at each other, and he felt like he should say something but at the same time that he shouldn't. Quietly, she stepped across the room and then turned around in front of him. Gently, he reached out and carefully did up the zipper on the back of the dress, his fingers just barely brushing her skin. They both shivered slightly in response, and then she stepped away, her eyes conveying more than words probably could have anyways. He wondered if she was reading as much from his.

But then the moment was broken by the chiming of her clock from the other room, and they both glanced towards the door.

"We should..." he said, trailing off.

"Yeah," she agreed, although it was a bit too quick of a response. He pretended not to notice, and then took the risk of placing his hand on the small of her back to lead her out. She glanced at him, and this time a smile shone in her eyes and tilted up the corners of her lips. He couldn't help but smile back, relief calming him. It was all going to be okay. They'd go out to dinner, relax, have a good time, come back, watch some movies... she'd probably fall asleep on the couch, then he'd carry her into the bedroom and tuck her in beside him. Tomorrow they'd go trick-or-treating with Parker. As a... family. Because that's what they were, as irregular and confusing as their situation was.

"So, you still aren't going to tell me where we're going?" she said. The question was somewhat forced, but he appreciated the effort and latched onto it immediately, laughing to lighten the mood.

"Nope. It's a surprise, Bones. Telling you would kind of spoil the point, now wouldn't it?"

"And yet you protest so much when _I'm_ the one who wants to surprise you?"

They returned to the previous debate, falling into it easily as they made their way down the stairs. By the time they were leaving the apartment her eyes were sparkling with amusement and they'd moved on to discussing Parker's excitement about tomorrow as well as their own previous Halloween experiences.

They kept up the conversation as he drove, and soon they were pulling into the parking lot at a familiar location.

"Really?" she asked, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Yup. I thought it would be nice, you know... to come back here."

"I... thank you, Booth." Her eyes conveyed just how much she meant it, and he smiled back at her before he got out and hurried around to get her door for her before she could do it herself. They hadn't been out on a formal date, truthfully, since Ange had pulled them out on that first one. They'd gone out plenty of times, to the movies or on trips similar to their first weekend with Parker, but none of them quite as romantic as he'd have liked. This was a chance he'd been hoping to have, and with both of them out of work directly before a weekend with plans to spend it with Parker, he'd been quick to latch onto the idea of taking her out... showing her how much she meant to him. What better way to do that then to take her back to the beginning, and dance on this same floor again, together... only by themselves this time, with no one watching them specifically or arranging things for them. It was just them.

They were seated quickly after Booth gave his name and was found in the reservation book, and they sorted through the menu. He insisted that she get whatever she wanted, despite her clear qualms about ordering anything expensive when he'd made it obvious that he'd be paying the full bill.

While she sipped the wine that had been poured for them he fingered the metal object in his pocket, wishing he could ask the question but knowing that it wasn't possible. Not after the conversation they'd just had at her apartment. He didn't want to risk ruining their weekend by upsetting her with this now.

It had already taken quite a bit to just get himself to go out and buy the ring, which he'd had to do by taking time off from the FBI, because otherwise there would be no way for him to explain where he was going to her. So, while she'd been busy with work at the Jeffersonian and he'd been 'doing paperwork,' he was actually out trying to sort his way through all the options and find something suitable that wouldn't freak her out just as much as the question itself probably would. At least he'd gotten a good deal of sympathy from the clerks at every place he went to, who saw guys like him agonizing over his same predicament pretty much every day. He even saw a few himself, and spoke to several of them as they tried to figure out how they were going to pull off what they had to do. They were all considerably better off then him, though, since from what he could gather all of their girlfriends weren't likely to be opposed with the reason that they hated marriage itself.

He'd gotten wishes of luck from more people than he could count after he'd explained to them while they were swapping stories. Most of them simply didn't know how to ask... they were hopeful towards a positive answer, though, which he tried to be but could never really succeed at it.

It was a fairly simple ring, nothing incredibly fancy. It wasn't that he hadn't _wanted_ to get her something elaborate and beautiful, on the contrary that was exactly what he'd have gotten her if she'd have wanted that. But he'd settled for something that he knew she might actually like... it was a thin gold band with one diamond. It's purpose was to propose the idea and hopefully have it accepted; for the wedding band, if he was so lucky, he could have it be more detailed and personalized towards her.

"Booth?"

"Yeah, Bones?"

"Have you finished with that?" she asked, nodding towards the menu that lay forgotten in front of him.

"Oh... oh, yeah... I'm going to get the steak," he said with a nod. "Um... have you decided on yours yet?"

"The pumpkin ravioli with steamed vegetables," she said, sliding the menu over to the edge of the table to be picked up by the waiter whenever he came around to get their orders. He placed his on top of hers.

They got into a discussion about the latest case while they waited, something he'd been hoping to avoid, since work wasn't exactly a romantic topic, but it was easy to talk about, and she seemed to be enjoying discussing their latest leads and the different forensic evidence Hodgins had recovered yesterday... so he didn't pull the topic in another direction but simply let it continue.

Thankfully it wasn't another Halloween themed murder... he'd had enough of those with that single one two years ago. No, it was one body found in the woods, tucked under the roots of a large oak tree. So far they'd interrogated a few people, but nothing really surprising had surfaced that might lead them to a solid suspect. The ones that they had questioned provided some insight, but all their alibis had checked out, which was leaving both of them rather frustrated.

"Ange got the facial reconstruction finished, and she ran it through the system, but we didn't get any credible matches. There were a few that were close, but they didn't match in age or height to the victim that we found..."

"What about the bugs that Hodgins found?"

She sighed, "Well, he was able to determine time of death to be roughly two months ago, but other than that nothing that might help us. Mr. Nigel-Murray is still looking for cause of death, and I have confidence that by Monday he will have some interesting new evidence ready for us. We might have to go in tomorrow or on Sunday, though..."

"Hey, let's not think about losing our weekend, shall we?" he said lightly. "I'd like to be able to relax and just be with you... not have to think about what we need to do for a case."

She smiled softly at his words, and gave a thoughtful nod of agreement, although he could see that she might disagree with him slightly on just how important free-time, the concept in general, was when there were murderers on the loose.

The waiter came by at last, in the middle of the silence at the end of the conversation, and they both placed their respective orders. Their wine glasses were refilled, as well.

The silence extended once he was gone, and he could tell it was almost contemplative on her part. She was staring off slightly to the side, that little crease between her eyebrows which indicated she was deep in thought. He remained silent as well, letting her work out whatever it was; she would tell him as soon as she figured whatever it was out, he knew.

Or, as the case was, when she decided to voice the question she'd been pondering. "Booth, about... earlier." He looked up at her in surprise, immediately getting an unpleasant feeling as he braced himself for whatever she'd come up with on the topic. "I'm... sorry I put you in that situation. I understand that you... feel uncomfortable in such a situation..."

"Hey hey, no, Bones, okay? It wasn't that, exactly... it's more like..." He might as well just try to explain it all to her, and get it out there. Once it was on her mind, after all, it wasn't like it was going to just float away and let them enjoy their dinner in a carefree manner. And it would keep coming back, too, until it was correctly addressed. "Bones, I need you to understand. It's not that I don't... want to." He felt like he'd said this before, and he had, but he still felt the need to restate it, just in case she'd managed to forget it, or she hadn't fully understood the first time around. "I just don't want our relationship to change so suddenly into... being more physically based. I want it to be able to be like this, you and me, just being happy together, with nothing else there." He realized a bit too late that he was almost helping her argument against marriage, but he shook the thought off and went onwards, "And you know that I want you to be fully comfortable with everything that we do, as well; for a long time I was more worried about that instead of other reasons... but now..." he frowned, not really sure what else he could say, and feeling like he'd actually not made a good argument at all. At least not one which would withstand her logical reasoning.

"We've been dating for months, Booth," she said calmly. "And I don't need _time_ to figure out that I love you. I accepted that a long time ago. Nothing is going to change that, no matter what happens between us in other aspects of our relationship." He wondered if she realized that she had just done exactly what he'd done... given reasoning for the side of the marriage debate that was not one which she was in agreement with. "And..." she continued, "I'm ready."

She left it at that, and he knew that she was right.

He nodded in agreement, and she smiled slightly in response, knowing that she had gotten through to him. He wondered whether he might ever get through to her with his question and reasoning, but that was something for another time. It looked like tonight they were going to be focusing on something else far more immediate, especially given the way she kissed him on the dance floor later while they twirled around, lost completely in one another.

God, he loved her so much.

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**You're thoughts would be greatly appreciated on this chapter.  
**

**Oh, and it happens to be my birthday today :) You're welcome to guess at my age if you'd like, I'm curious to see what you all think. xD**

**P.S.- Any guesses on Brennan's Halloween costume? I think I've come up with a pretty awesome idea, and I'm hoping you'll all agree after the next chapter.  
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	16. Chapter 16

**Okay, so it's a short chapter, and I posted it really late, but it's still Halloween!! (atleast here it is)**

**Hope you enjoy!!  
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She awoke slowly, her eyes flickering open, and found herself alone. She sat up in bed, pulling the blankets up around her as she did so, and looked around. Her first thought was to question where Booth was, her second was more of a reel of memories from the night before. Then she went back to questioning where he was.

He loved her... if anything, he'd proved it last night.

So where was he?

"Booth?"

Quick footsteps sounded, and she felt relief shoot through her. Immediately she knew she shouldn't have doubted him for a second, but her nature hadn't allowed her to do otherwise. This was still taking some getting used to.

He stepped lightly into the room, smiling warmly at her as he made his way over and climbed back onto the mattress beside her. "Good morning," he murmured softly, kissing her quickly in greeting. She felt a similar smile plaster itself across her face. "I made breakfast," he said, gesturing towards the door as though by way of explanation for his absence. "Sorry, I shouldn't have let you wake up alone." He paused, looking at her with sudden concern, "You okay?"

"I'm perfect," she said warmly, leaning forward to kiss him again, but he pulled back slightly, and she frowned.

"Last night..."

She shook her head. "Don't you dare worry about that, Booth."

She had to admit that she'd felt a little anxious to begin with, when they'd gotten home, but it was Booth. She'd never felt safer than when she was with him. And he'd made her promise, while they lay in bed together, that she would tell him immediately if absolutely anything upset her, or if she was hurt in any way. And she had, once. It was to be expected, though, that it wouldn't be perfect to start with. She'd been inactive for months, and seriously injured before that.

He'd wanted to just put it off, as she'd expected he would, but she'd convinced him otherwise.

She was fairly certain he hadn't regretted it. She hadn't.

But now he was starting to worry her, making her think that maybe he hadn't reacted like she had to the events of the previous evening.

"Are you okay?" she asked, holding the blankets up around herself.

"Yeah, Bones, I just want to make sure you are."

She sighed and shook her head to wave off that notion of his. "What's for breakfast?" she asked, changing the topic.

He looked at her for another moment, but then replied, "French toast."

She nodded firmly, and then made a decision. She climbed out of the bed and collected some clothing to wear. She dressed in full view of him, and then grabbed his hand and pulled him to the kitchen, his stunned face slightly amusing.

She was just relieved they'd gotten onto this stage. Once it got more... normal, she'd feel a lot better, a lot more... at home. Even though she'd actually already started to feel that way, living with Booth. It was another step closer to her being absolutely certain that this could last, though, and that was what she needed. More than anything.

"What time's Parker coming over?" she asked curiously, having not been filled in on the details quite yet. She'd left that for Rebecca and Booth to work out, since he was their child, after all.

He placed a dish of French toast in front of her, still looking slightly off-balance. The sudden change in their relationship must be leaving him a little lost. He'd catch up soon; she had faith in that. In him.

"Right, he'll be here at five. So we've got all morning to do whatever." He immediately opened his mouth, shut it, and glanced nervously away, as though he'd realized what his words might imply just a little too late.

She really hoped it wasn't going to be this awkward forever.

"Actually, I'm going to Hodgins' place at eight. Remember?"

"Oh, right."

They fell into silence, and she continued to eat. His dish just stayed in front of him.

She sighed again.

"Booth, please talk to me."

"About what?"

"You know what I mean."

Now he sighed. "I just... Bones, it's like I said before. I want to make sure you know that... it doesn't have to be like this, all the time. I'm happy with you. Just _you_, like we've always been. And I feel like if we... go into this too fast it's going to just turn out to something that... neither of us want."

She couldn't help it; she laughed slightly at that. "Why do you worry about these things?" she asked.

He looked at her incredulously, like he was seeing her for the first time, "Bones, why do you worry about stuff like losing people?"

She looked away, getting his point.

"I'm willing to do this any way that you want, Bones," he said softly. "But no matter what happens, I'll always want to take the route that means I get to keep you. And don't go thinking I wasn't happy about last night," he added, a smile twisting up the corners of his lips. "I love you," he added seriously.

"And I love you," she answered, with just as much feeling. "I understand, Booth, I do. And... thanks. I couldn't ask for someone to care about me more than you do."

They stared at each other, the silence taking over once more, but this time it wasn't uncomfortable, but rather content and laced with meaning that could be seen in both sets of eyes.

A knock at the door interrupted them.

"...That's Ange," she said, hesitating.

"Go ahead," he said with a nod and a smile. "Go finish that Halloween costume of yours. Whatever it is."

She smiled as well. "You'll see soon enough. And I'll be back by noon, promise. Founding Fathers for lunch?"

"Sounds good."

She nodded and stood, heading towards the door.

Just before she reached for the handle she was spun around by large hands from behind and suddenly he had his arms around her and was kissing her soundly. She was gasping for breath when they broke apart, and then she smiled and pressed her lips to his once more, quickly, before she stepped from his grasp and opened the door for Angela.

Her friend glanced between the two of them immediately, and her face broke into a wide grin. It was almost uncanny how she just _knew_ these things.

"Well, we should get going," Brennan said quickly. Ange gave her the signature, 'oh, we're _so_ talking about this,' look, but complied anyways... for the most part.

"Having a good weekend so far, Booth?" she said, grinning at him as she stepped back towards the door.

He opened his mouth, but made no response. Brennan quickly grabbed her purse and hurried out, waving Booth a hasty goodbye before she shut the door behind her.

"Oh, you _did_," Angela said eagerly as they started down the stairs.

She flushed slightly, "And?"

"I'm happy for you! I'm allowed to be, now aren't I?"

"I suppose so."

"Do I get details?"

"...No, sorry, Ange."

But Angela just shrugged, not seemingly too bothered by this. "You're happy though, I can see that. So I'm happy."

She smiled, "Thanks." That's what she loved about Ange, she always knew just what to say, and somehow she knew when she was going too far and should pull back and just let her be. It wasn't like she did it often, but that was probably because she could just sense somehow that she _wanted_ to talk about it, even if she denied it. This time she knew that she really didn't want to discuss it, though; this was something between her and Booth. Not something to be shared. Being with Hodgins, Ange probably fully understood it, actually.

* * *

"Seriously, you still aren't going to tell me? Bones, we're going trick-or-treating in like... four hours."

"Booth, I'm not going to ruin it now. If anything, the shortness of the remaining time should be an indicator of the heightening of my likelihood to _not_ tell you."

"Do the two of you ever stop arguing?" Ange piped up, grinning from beside Brennan.

"Yes," the both said at once, and then laughed.

"What are you going as, anyways?" Booth asked, "And don't tell me it's a surprise as well, because last time I checked I wasn't even going to see you tonight."

"Well, you would have, but Bren told me you two were busy tonight, so you couldn't come to my Halloween party. I'm going as a pirate ninja." He raised an eyebrow. "What? I couldn't decide."

She found herself chuckling. "Hodgins got roped into being a Native American chief."

"Seriously?" Booth asked, eyebrow still raised.

Ange shrugged, "He was being difficult. Kept saying he wanted to go as the Grim Reaper. But that's no fun, because then no one can even see your face."

"Okay, so I'm going to assume that Bones' costume doesn't have a mask, then."

Ange opened her mouth, and then closed it. "Fine, you can have that one. That doesn't narrow it down much at all, anyways. Makeup can always take over for masks, like ninety percent of the time."

He rolled his eyes. "Ruin my fun, huh? Anyone else going to your Halloween party tonight, though?"

"Cam said she'd go, and I think Sweets will be as well. Hodgins said he'd take care of inviting the interns, plus anybody else we can find."

"I do wish we could have come, Ange, but spending time with Parker... no offense, but it ranks higher."

"None taken," Ange said, but Brennan's eyes had flicked to Booth, and she caught the way his smile warmed when she'd said that she'd basically rather spend time with his son than her best friend. "I always think it's really cute when a girlfriend and her boyfriend's son get along almost like they're the parent."

She decided to ignore the way in which Ange had said that.

"Booth said he was going to show me Parker's favorite movie tonight... have you ever heard of The Nightmare Before Christmas?"

"Heard of it? Sweetie, I've seen that movie well over a dozen times. I can practically quote it. You're telling me you never even heard-" she broke off and then sighed, "Right, never mind." Her eyes went to Booth, "Please tell me you've at least made her watch Star Wars by now?"

"We're working up to it. There's a lot of movies she's never seen."

"Hey, it's not like I had time over the years, or any inclination. Why would I want to go to the movies by myself when I had studying to do?"

"Right, sorry Bones."

"You know what, we're going to go out and see a movie together, just us on a girls' night out, sometime next month, you got it? And you can pick the movie."

That actually sounded like it might be fun. Her and Ange hadn't gotten together to do something, just the two of them, in quite some time. As much as she loved spending time with Booth, it would be nice to see a bit more of her best friend.

"Guess I'll drag Hodgins to a hockey game then, won't I?"

"Sounds like a plan," Ange agreed, grinning widely. "He could do with some sports atmosphere. He was _way_ too excited to get back to his bugs when he returned to work."

Booth laughed, "Yeah, I saw that. It still freaks me out how much he loves those things."

"He's a far better entomologist than his replacement was," Brennan spoke up.

"I heard about that," Ange said, "Sorry you had to put up with him because Jack and I were off enjoying ourselves."

"It was fine, Ange, just a minor annoyance. I mostly stayed in the field with Booth during that time, anyways. Mr. Nigel-Murray is very adept at his work in the lab."

"You know, that kid must be near his doctorate by now. When's he going to do that last part, or whatever, and get his diploma?"

"Booth, you know that what you just said was incredibly inaccurate. He has to-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Defend his dissertation or whatever... I remember from when Zach got his."

A brief flash of sadness went through her at the mention, but it went away fairly quickly. It was getting easier to talk about, which was good seeing as how long it had been since they'd lost him as a member of their team. And seeing him a few months ago had helped some as well.

"Should we get going, Bones?" Booth asked, gesturing to all the empty dishes on the table.

"If you'd like. We have the day off, but I suppose it would be nice to have the apartment clean before Parker arrives."

He groaned, and she laughed.

* * *

She could hear him pacing in the living room, and hurriedly slid the glasses onto the end of her nose. She quickly looked over herself in the mirror, admiring what an amazing job Angela had done on the dress, and after ensuring that her hair was tightly in the bun and was not going to come out, she pulled on the hat and opened the door.

Booth paused in his movement, and she came down the hall, stopping at the end and smiling at him. Parker jumped up from the couch, already wearing his Robin costume. Booth was dressed in Batman garb, too, but he was holding the mask in his hand.

"Wow, Bones," Booth said, eyes wide.

"Do you know who I'm supposed to be?"

"I know, I know!" Parker said, jumping up and down. His cape twirled behind him.

She smiled affectionately at the boy, and then turned her attention back to Booth with a raised eyebrow.

"You seriously dressed up as a Harry Potter character, Bones?"

"I... yeah." She suddenly felt apprehensive. What, did he not like it?

He shook his head slowly. "You know, you never cease to amaze me. And you make an incredibly McGonagall."

"Thanks. Ange took care of the dress."

"I figured. She had a lot of fun, I'm betting."

"Oh yeah; she looked like Christmas came early when I told her that I wanted her help to make a costume. And she had _way_ too much fun dressing me up and experimenting with designs. Then she insisted on making the hat to match, when I was going to go buy one. At least she let me go and get the glasses myself," she added, laughing slightly.

He chuckled as well.

"You look beautiful, Bones," he whispered as he put an arm around her and led her towards the door. "Come on, Parker!" Let's go get you some candy!"

"Alright!" he shouted, punching the air as he snatched up his bag and ran ahead of them out the door.

"So you like it?"

"Like it, Bones? How could I not love something about you?" he murmured, kissing her forehead softly. And then he led the way down the stairs, off to go walk the streets in the dark and watch the kid cheer over every Twix bar he received.

She remembered her own Halloweens at his age... she'd been just the same.

Except she'd been after the Milky Ways.

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**Happy Halloween, everyone!!**

**I think Brennan would make a pretty great McGonagall. :)**

**Oh, and anyone who was curious... I'm actually seventeen. xD  
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	17. Chapter 17

**I'm not even going to try to explain my lack of updating. I'm just going to apologize and hope desperately to be forgiven... and hope that some people out there are still actually interested in reading this. **

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_Mid-December_

"Snow!" a voice shouted from the doors that she knew had just opened. She didn't look up, simply closing her eyes for a moment to remain focused before she resumed carefully attempting to remove the splintered object from the bone in front of her. This could very well be a piece of the murder weapon, given how close it was to the wound that had caused the victim to bleed out. Likely, the weapon had not been in very good condition, something made out of wood... there was a good chance that the murder hadn't been planned ahead of time, otherwise something much more reasonable would have been used. This must have been something out of rage or passion.

The sound of his card sliding through the security system, sending off the ringing sound of clearance, made her stiffen slightly, and she hesitated before she simply sighed and placed the tweezers down, straightening up just as he reached her.

"Hey, Bones!" he greeted her cheerfully. She managed a smile, glancing regretfully at the skeleton she needed to finish working on. They didn't even have an identification for the victim yet, and it was taking much longer than usual, which was frustrating.

He frowned at her with concern, clearly worried that something was bothering her. Well, yes, it was. The fact that she hadn't been out in the field in several weeks.

"I hope you've got some sort of good news?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and ignoring the look on his face. The one that very clearly said that he wanted to drag her to her office and question her about why she looked upset. She'd probably end up saving him the trouble and just explaining it in a moment, anyways. She wasn't going to spend another week stuck here, no matter how few cases there were at the moment.

"Yeah; it's snowing out there!" he said, his eyes lighting up with excitement, but his eyebrows remaining in their furrowed position.

"I fail to see what is so wonderful about freezing weather and bad driving conditions," she answered him coolly.

"Temperance," he said seriously as she turned back towards the skeleton. She begrudgingly turned to face him again. "Is this about Thanksgiving?"

"What? No," she answered flatly. That had been a disaster, yes, but it had nothing to do with her feelings right now. It hadn't exactly helped matters, of course. Between Rebecca taking Parker to Florida with Mark, Max being unable to come because Russ had already asked him to Thanksgiving in New England with Amy's family, her refusing to compromise and go with him, and the turkey that the two of them had intended to share alone burning... yes, things could have gone better. She was over that, though. It had been immensely frustrating and they'd gotten in a few fights over what it meant to be a family, even if it was only the two of them... some of it hadn't been fully resolved, actually.

"Then what is it?" Booth was asking her.

"I just... I don't like being stuck here," she answered honestly. "Shouldn't you have found some people to interrogate yet? Shouldn't we be out interviewing witnesses that lived near where the body was found?"

"It's been a slow week," he answered. "The computers all shut down yesterday after that technical issue I told you about, and things still aren't up to speed. But I _promise_ you, we will be back in the field, _together_, soon."

She nodded, allowing herself to get somewhat hopeful at that prospect.

"Now, I need some help. I got Nigel for the Christmas gift swap thing that Ange set up for us all, and I have _no _idea what to get him."

She laughed slightly, amused as always by his tactics of changing the topic. "It's supposed to be a _secret_, Booth, in case you've forgotten. That's why I refused to tell you who I got, if you managed to remember those several conversations we had on the topic."

"Yeah, but I already told you who I got on those occasions too. It's not like it's a secret anymore. Can you please just tell me what I'm supposed to get for him? All I've thought of is anthropology books or chemistry sets, and somehow I don't think he'd appreciate either very much."

"You're a guy, he's a guy... you'll figure something out."

"Oh, that's incredibly insightful, Bones," he teased.

She shrugged. "I've got to get back to work, though. Once I get the ID I'm sure we'll have plenty of reasons to go out into the field..."

"You really want to get out of here, don't you?" he asked, tipping his head to the side.

"Really? I thought I'd made that very vague," she muttered sarcastically.

"...Would you like to go out now?" he asked carefully.

She raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Depends. Where do you intend on going?"

"I thought we'd just go grab some hot chocolate or something over at the diner... relax, talk, you know." He shrugged, "If you'd like to, that is."

She hesitated, watching the pleadingly hopeful expression in his eyes. She chuckled in defeat, "Okay, Booth, let's go."

He grinned, and eagerly placed an arm around her as he led her from the platform. She didn't protest as he brought her to her office and insisted on helping her into her coat, but she did insist on driving, which he didn't seem to agree with but allowed her to do.

When they were situated in their usual booth, her with coffee and him with pie, he started the conversation lightly. "I thought we were getting cocoa?"

"Yeah, well I wanted coffee and you wanted pie. This is what happens whenever we come here."

He smiled and nodded, and then hesitated visibly before speaking again. "Have you found out what your family is doing for Christmas this year?" She opened her mouth, but before she could speak he interrupted and continued, "I mean... your dad and your brother. Obviously your squints and me... we're your family, too."

She bit her lip for a second, giving one quick nod in response to what he'd said, and then she answered him. "I'm not really... sure. Max said he wants to be around for Christmas this year, but he hasn't asked about my plans or anything, and I haven't even spoken to Russ much at all, since... when he last visited, really."

"Don't worry about it," Booth said softly, his eyes shining with reassurance. "You, me, and Parker are going to have a great time together. And on Christmas Eve I'm sure Angela is going to make sure we all have an unforgettable time over at her and Hodgins' place. I just was wondering because I wanted to make sure that... everything was okay. And I need you to understand, too, that what we are right now, _is_ a family. Everything else, every_one_ else, is family too... but you and me... we're together, and that's all that matters."

She nodded again, but couldn't even begin to think of a reasonable response. She hadn't gotten much better at expressing emotions in conversations like this... but she hoped that Booth understood just how much what he'd said meant to her. Because it did mean a lot... especially given that this was Christmas. It had never been... an easy time of year.

Usually she wouldn't even celebrate it, and she'd written it off so many times as just not being important at all, as it being a commercial holiday that didn't mean anything and celebrated an unrealistic belief in religion that wasn't founded in any form of concrete evidence. While the last part wasn't going to change, the rest of it... well she knew that she'd been using it as some sort of coping mechanism, no matter how much she hated to admit that psychology was probably correct on that matter. It was important; immensely so. Family, friends, people that cared about you... it all linked back to that. And when you had no one... when you were all alone and the rest of the world was laughing and sharing presents, gathering together in the warmth of a house filled with people that were all united by their bonds to one another... it hurt.

How could it not, when she watched it all unfold around her, feeling like she was a part of another universe, one that they didn't need to include in order to feel happy? The first year she'd worked with Booth had been the first time she'd spent Christmas with people she knew since when she was fifteen, actually, and that had been by force. She hadn't chosen to be quarantined, and she hadn't wanted to stay with them. She'd wanted to get out of the country, to where she would dig up victims of mass genocide and feel like she was making a difference among other people that didn't celebrate the holiday either.

And seeing all of their loved ones come to see them at the lab, travelling the distance just because the other could not leave the confines of the lab... she remembered the empty feeling. She doubted she'd ever forget it. Hodgins and his girlfriend. Angela and her father. Zach and his large family. Goodman and his wife and children.

...Booth and Parker.

And she'd watched it all from a distance, not interfering with their interactions with one another, even when she'd seen Angela's father, whom she recognized even after all this time. Because she didn't belong. And she'd felt like she never could.

Almost unconsciously her hand slid across and found his, gripping it tightly as she stared into his eyes, knowing that her own were smoldering with emotion. Seeing the glow of warmth and love shining back at her, she knew that he understood. And she couldn't ask for much more than that. Not when he already did so much for her. Not when he meant so much to her that she could no longer even think rationally about the topic.

Not when she loved him... and she wanted, more than anything, to wake up in the same house with him on Christmas morning, and not feel the pain that the day always brought.

This year would be different... and maybe so would be every Christmas that came after it.

* * *

**I hope you all enjoyed this, and I _promise_ there will be more. And it will be soon, unlike the last time. I really just need to get back into the groove of writing this story again... **

**I probably don't deserve it, but I'm going to ask for some feedback, because I really need some just to know if people are still interested in this story. Plus... they would make me happy and much more eager to open up the document and get typing again. *hopeful smile*  
**


	18. Chapter 18

She knew that he was pouting again, but she calmly ignored him and kept her eyes scanning the shelves.

"Please?" he repeated for about the fifth time.

She closed her eyes and replied tersely, "No, Booth. I already said it at least four times, and it's not going to be any different the next time you ask either."

"But you've already got yours wrapped and I still don't even know what to get Nigel!"

"So?"

"Oh come on, Bones, you could at least help me. Who did you get a gift for, anyways?"

"Another thing I'm not going to tell you," she muttered, selecting a box of cereal and flipping it to read the nutrition label. "This stuff is horribly unhealthy," she muttered, placing it back on the shelf and leaning down to pick up one that looked less sugary. "Do you think Parker would like this just as much?"

"I highly doubt my son will find Wheaties as exciting as Lucky Charms," he said, shaking his head as he chuckled slightly. "It's Christmas, Bones, let him eat what he wants."

She scowled, "But that aids him to create an unhealthy pattern in his life, which will only continue to repeat and then exponentially expand until he becomes obese and unable to participate in those sports that you remember from high school." Seeing the look on his face, she frowned and continued, "I'm just trying to be realistic. You should try it once in a while."

He sighed. "Okay, being realistic... how about we go get ourselves a nice Christmas tree, since _realistically_ it's going to get harder to find one the closer we get to the big day?"

"I thought you might like to handle that part," she suggested. "I'll be fine with whatever you pick out." She pushed the grocery cart around the corner and consulted the list with a frown as she stopped in front of a freezer and opened it, scanning the icy contents for her usual brand of frozen yogurt.

"Bones... finding the tree is just as important as decorating it. I could never just... go and do it without you. I want this to be special... it's our first Christmas together, after all... time to set down some traditions."

"If it's that important to you, then of course I'll come along," she conceded. "What other traditions, exactly, did you have in mind?" she added as an afterthought question.

"You know, just stuff you usually do for Christmas. When I was a kid, we all just grabbed our presents and opened them... I'd like to try maybe taking our time, though. Make it more enjoyable, more important... what did you do, when you were a kid?"

She knew that he was asking hesitantly, so she answered quickly to ease his mind, knowing that he hated bringing up her childhood because he thought it upset her. Sometimes it did, yes, but she didn't want him to have to constantly be concerned about it.

"My dad always went out and got the tree, and then we decorated together. Mom and dad had us open all of our gifts one after the other, and then we could entertain ourselves with them while they opened each others'... which were usually just household stuff."

He nodded, smiling warmly at her. "Well, I guess we'll just have to see how everything unfolds for us, then, won't we?"

She nodded agreement, leading them around another corner as she collected a loaf of whole wheat bread and then moved on to the produce department.

"You know, maybe we should go easy on how much we're getting here, Bones. I don't want to be lugging bags into the house all afternoon in the snow. For all we know, it could be a blizzard out there by now."

"Fruits and vegetables are the most important part of any meal," she said simply, grabbing a bag and snapping it open as she began examining a large red tomato.

"You're going to turn my son into a vegetarian," he complained teasingly.

"What's the problem there? It's a healthy lifestyle. You'd benefit from it, you know."

He laughed, "Yeah, sorry Bones, but I'm going to have to pass. I like my meat just a little too much."

She shrugged.

"You know," he said, his voice more serious and thoughtful, "For claiming you wouldn't be a very good mother, you really act like one."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she raced to think of something to say in response, something that would sound normal and that would get her out of this particular conversation. Things never went smoothly whenever Booth brought up either of the two topics that were practically taboo in their home. Marriage and babies. And this was clearly a baby-related-topic.

She decided to brush it off and hope he'd move on and start talking about something else. "Every woman possesses maternal instincts, Booth. And besides, no matter how muted mine may be, I rely more on natural instinct in regard to my own lifestyle. I rely on healthy food; it only makes sense to serve that same food to people I care about."

He grinned softly at her, and then reached over and tossed an apple from hand to hand. "Got enough there, yet?" he asked, nodding towards the assortment already in the cart.

"I think so," she agreed with a nod.

"How many bags is this going to fill?" he muttered apprehensively under his breath as he steered them towards the register.

"About three," she said convincingly. "I brought my canvas bags; they're much easier and environmentally friendly. It should all fit in three of them."

He laughed again, "You think of everything, don't you, Bones?"

"Yup," she answered with a grin.

"Seriously, though," he muttered to her as they began to load their food up onto the belt, making her brace herself for another unpleasant topic, "What am I going to get Nigel?"

She released the breath she'd been holding in the form of a short laugh. "You never quit," she chuckled. "Tell you what, if you help me put away all of these groceries, I'll consider helping you find something for him."

"You'll _consider_?" he asked indignantly.

"Yes. Consider. Is there a problem with that?"

He shook his head, chuckling under his breath. "No, Bones... no problem at all..."

She frowned, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye and not really understanding what was so amusing about what she'd said.

Once they were back in the car he brought up the topic of the impending holiday once again, "We really do need to go and get a tree... would you be okay with doing that tomorrow, maybe? Decorations won't be a real problem, since I've got plenty stored away back at my old place."

"I would be fine with that arrangement," she consented. "I might... actually have some old decorations myself."

He stared at her in surprise, "Well then of course we'll use them, Bones. I'm glad you... I'm just happy that we can incorporate things from both of us. And maybe... we can get some new decorations to, you know, commemorate our first year celebrating Christmas together."

She considered for a moment, her first reaction kicking in to immediately contradict the rationality of everything that this conversation stood for, but she finally overruled it and instead smiled back at him. To him, she knew it would be as good as a sign of her agreement with what he'd suggested.

* * *

"What about this one?" he suggested eagerly, pointing out a tall tree with a wide bottom. A light dusting of snow decorated the tips of its branches, making it sparkle.

"Booth, I told you before that I don't really know exactly how to do this. They all look perfectly fine to me."

It was early morning, and the snow from the night before had hardened with a sheet of ice lying on the top. Their boots crunched through it loudly whenever they moved. She took another sip from the burning coffee in her cup, jerking her head back in response to the alarming heat. It was instinct to drink from the cup that she held, and she'd already forgotten multiple times just how hot it was due to that. Carefully she wrapped both hands around it and twisted them to rub the warmth more thoroughly into her body through her fingers. The snow might have stopped, but that didn't mean that it wasn't still the coldest day of the month thus far.

"Cold, Bones?" he asked cheekily. "Told you that you should have worn gloves."

"One of them had a big hole in it," she replied defensively. "And its not like I have boxes of extras just lying around in our apartment."

"Tell you what, I'll go buy you a new pair as an early Christmas gift."

"I'm fine," she growled in response, her hands clamping slightly tighter around the warmth of the object in her hands. She lifted it to her lips again, wincing as the hot liquid once again burned her.

"No, you're not. You're tired," he responded. "And cold, of course, but I already knew that one. Here," he stepped closer and wrapped an arm around her. He rubbed his hand up and down her arm, the warmth of his body against hers immediately making her melt into him. When he stepped away he pulled the coffee cup carefully out of her hands. "I'll hang on to this until you wake up enough to realize you shouldn't keep trying to burn off all your taste buds with it."

She opened her mouth to object, but then decided it wasn't really worth it. He was probably right, anyways.

"Oh, and another thing... I could never really say it before, but you look adorable in that hat," he whispered to her, grinning widely as he turned away and started to walk up the nearest row of trees. She stared after him for a moment, just surprised at the abruptness of the comment, and then hastily followed. Her hands went subconsciously up to the hat, a soft smile creeping on to her face as she joined him.

"You know that I don't care much for that term," she said, trying to sound stern but failing.

He laughed, "And you should know me enough to know that I don't really care, _Bones_."

She gave him a mock glare, which only made him laugh again.

"Besides," he murmured, leaning closer to her ear, "You _do_ look adorable... it's not my fault, just my observation."

She gave him a light punch on the arm.

"Okay, enough of that... the sooner we get a tree the sooner we can get back to a nice warm environment. Preferably curled up on the couch watching a movie with some hot cocoa and popcorn."

She had to admit, that did sound quite appealing. She shivered again as he stepped away once more, and he paused and then reached a hand out to her. She didn't even hesitate before she stepped forward and took it. His arm wrapped around her back as they walked together down the row. He continued to point out trees, and she attempted to observe them with the same fascination that he did, looking for some sort of quality that would make it stand out to her. She wished this sort of thing came easily to her, the way it seemed to for everyone else this time of year.

"Oh, now _this_ one is perfect," Booth said eagerly, separating himself from her as he stepped closer to it. He turned back to grin at her, "What do you think?"

It looked like just about every tree, but she had to admit that it did look vibrant, and there were certainly plenty of nice branches that they could hang ornaments from.

"It looks great, Booth," she said, smiling back.

"Alright, then, Bones... let's get her all paid for and tied to the roof!"

* * *

"Careful with those!" Booth said, yanking back to avoid being hit by the large boxes she was carrying.

"Sorry!" she answered, steadying them and setting them on the nearest piece of furniture, which happened to be his very dusty couch. "Booth, don't you think it would be a good idea to just move all of your stuff out of here so that we don't have to pay rent on two apartments? I mean... look at this," she ran a finger along the edge of the cushion, collecting a thick layer of dust on it and holding it up for him to see.

He scoffed, "Oh, and I suppose you'd let me put all this stuff in the spare room or something?"

"Well obviously you could sell most of it."

He gave her an indignant and slightly horrified look.

"Be reasonable," she said, quickly attempting to explain what she'd meant, "Your furniture isn't going to be any use to you anymore. Of course you would bring over anything that holds a value to you personally, but this couch... I see no reason to hang onto it."

He scowled. "I doubt we'd be having this same conversation if _you_ had moved _here_."

"But it made more sense for you to move into my place; it's far more spacious and conveniently located. Besides, we wouldn't have had this conversation if the situation had been reversed because I'd have gotten rid of anything I didn't need and brought everything else over. And it wouldn't have taken me months."

"Hey, it's a work in progress."

"The only things that have been moved are your Harry Potter collection and all of your DVDs," she pointed out. "Other than that, everything is exactly the way it was before we started dating. Minus the accumulation of dust, of course..."

"Hey, your welcome to tackle it if it bothers you so much," he offered. "Just... don't throw anything out."

"If you want me to do it myself, things _will_ be thrown out, Booth."

"...You're no fun."

She laughed. "Okay, would you like to just move back in here then, if I'm not any fun to be around?"

He gave her a serious look. "Of course not, Bones. I wouldn't change what we've got now, not for anything in the world. You think I don't like living together?"

She leaned closer and whispered, "I was _kidding_," in his ear. At his surprised expression, she chuckled and stepped back, lifting the boxes up again and making her way towards the door. "Come on, I think this is all of it... just get that box there and we can head home."

She turned and pushed her back into the door to get it open fully, and then rounded the corner out into the hallway without looking back to see if he was complying or not. The sound of his boots on the stairs a moment later confirmed it, though. She smiled softly to herself.

It was snowing once again, but lightly. The soft flakes caught in her hair as she crunched through the thin layer of snow on the sidewalk and propped the boxes on the side of the car in order to get the door open. Booth pushed his box onto the backseat before she could get hers in, and then he nimbly lifted them right out of her hands and put them in as well. She gave him an annoyed look, but he chose to grin cheekily back in response.

In retaliation she pick pocketed the keys from him and quickly made her way around to jump in the driver's seat.

Grumbling, he shut the back door and climbed in next to her.

"So, I just have to find some of my decorations once we get back, and we can get started," she told him as she started the engine and pulled out onto the road.

It had been a bit of a struggle, getting the tree off the roof and up into the apartment, but they'd managed it. While Booth had wanted to relax, she'd insisted that they go and get everything done right then. Afterwards they would have plenty of time to get comfortable and watch a movie or something.

"Oh, Booth?" she asked after a short while of driving in silence.

"Yeah?"

"Head straight home after work tomorrow; I'm bringing my own car to work."

"...Why?"

"I have some... shopping to do," she said, trying to make it sound innocent enough.

"Well, in _that_ case, I'll go and get some of my shopping done as well," he replied, grinning.

"Maybe we should set a... limit?" she suggested, pulling to a stop at a red light and turning to face him more fully. She tilted her head to the side questioningly.

"I don't think that'll be necessary. Let's just not go crazy, and it should be fine. Besides, I'm going to have a challenging enough time as it is... you won't even give me a list of things you'd like."

"Well I can't think of any! And besides, you aren't much easier. What do _you_ want?"

"Fine, you win that one."

She laughed. "Yes, I do."

"Hey, no need to rub it in, Bones!"

The light changed, and she turned left, driving a short distance before pulling into the back lot of the apartment building and sliding easily into her space. They both climbed out at the same time, and Booth got to the back faster, grabbing two boxes and leaving her with the last one. She scowled, but grabbed it without complaint and followed him. He still had to insist on being the gentleman, no matter how much she told him it wasn't necessary. It was a part of who he was, though, she supposed, and so she could live with it.

"What first?" she asked, putting the box down next to the other two on the table once they were in the apartment.

"Lights," he said eagerly, pulling open the top box and struggling to get out a long and tangled chain of colorful bulbs.

"Need some... help?"

"No, no... I've got it..." he muttered, yanking them out at last. The long strand tumbled mostly to the ground in a big heap or twisted wires.

"Whatever you say," she replied, slightly amused. "I'm going to go dig around in my hall closet to see what I can find... good luck with those."

"I don't need luck," he muttered, tugging at a knot.

She laughed under her breath, shaking her head as she made her way up the hall.

The closet was organized, for the most part, so it didn't take long to find a storage container packed full with ornaments all wrapped securely in tissue paper. She hadn't had this here forever, which was probably why it had been so easy to locate. Her father had only just sent these to her a few years back, after she'd found him again, and she'd never even bothered to look at them. Taking a deep breath, she carried the box back to the living room and set it down, carefully popping open the lid.

"Found them?" Booth asked. "That was quick."

"Yes, well, that's what happens when you're an organized person," she responded teasingly.

"Hmph," he grunted, glaring at the mess of lights, which had not progressed towards anything decent to be put on the tree as of yet. Then he simply shook his head, got to his feet, and came over to the couch, dropping on to a cushion and leaning forward to peer in the box. She slowly sat down beside him, reaching inside and pulling out the first bundle of tissue that her fingers encountered. She didn't look at him as she carefully unraveled it.

A slight gasp whispered out through her lips as she stared at the little yarn ornament, woven messily into the shape of a dog. It wasn't obvious what it was, but she knew. She'd made it herself, so long ago that she would have entirely forgotten if she wasn't staring at it right then.

"How old were you?" he asked gently, nodding towards the small object in her hands.

"Five," she answered softly, her fingers stroking over it. Her eyes didn't leave it as she continued. "Mom used to take out a craft book from the library... me and Russ would pick a project. Usually it never really came out very good... but my parents always hung them up and adored them... I think it was mostly my mom's doing, though. Dad never was one for acting like something was beautiful when it wasn't... he was always very honest about everything. Ironic, him being a conman the whole time..." she added with a sigh.

"Your parents loved you, Bones. That's all that matters."

She nodded, carefully placing the ornament down and reaching in to pull out another one. She didn't even realize her hand was shaking until Booth gently took the one she'd lifted out from her fingers and carefully opened it for her.

A hand flew up to her mouth and she bit her lower lip as she held out a hand for it. He placed it gently in her palm and she cupped it there, staring at it with wide eyes.

"I got this for my mom," she whispered, a finger trailing down the back of the glass dolphin. "It was my Christmas present to her one year... she loved it. Always put it on the tree first. Every year."

"Would you like to put it on, then, Bones?"

She stared at him in surprise. "I... you wouldn't mind?"

"Of course I wouldn't; I want you to continue the tradition. Go ahead."

She smiled softly at him as she held the ornament delicately in both hands and stood to place it on a higher branch, making sure to hook it securely.

"Come on," he said, standing up. "Help me with these lights, and we'll get the rest of the ornaments up."

* * *

His eyes blinked open slowly as he stretched his arms out from under the blankets. As usual, he turned his head towards her to see if she was awake yet or not, but she wasn't _there_. He frowned and rolled off the mattress, wincing as his bare feet hit the icy floor.

"Bones?" he called as he rounded the corner and made his way to the kitchen. He didn't smell coffee, which was odd. If she awoke before him she almost always started a pot before doing anything else. And he didn't hear the shower running, either.

He didn't get a response, and his frown intensified. When he couldn't find her it always made him nervous, despite how annoyed he knew that idea would make her. He might be a bit too protective, but he thought he had a pretty good right to be after how close he'd come, many times, to losing her altogether.

A note on the refrigerator immediately caught his eye after he initially observed that the coffee pot was still tucked in the corner, not yet touched that morning.

_Booth- I just have something that I need to do today. I'll be home well before lunch; sorry for not telling you. This is just something I need to do alone, and I hope you can forgive me for that. I love you, Bones._

He raised an eyebrow, his breath leaving him for a moment as he remembered the last time that he'd gotten a hasty note like this from her. He wondered if the significance had been noticed by her, and hoped desperately that it hadn't. He didn't like remembering, but the idea of _her_ remembering was far more painful. He'd gladly take the burden of all of it off of her shoulders, if only he could.

He knew her well enough to be able to figure out where she was fairly quickly. He could put together enough of the other information he knew, too, to understand exactly why this was something she thought she needed to do by herself. And she was right, actually. He just wished she'd have told him... he would have let her go alone. He would have understood. But she was doing things her way, the only way she knew, and he couldn't begrudge her even slightly for it.

He could, however, go to meet her where she was, and take her to get some breakfast afterwards.

He grabbed his keys from the bowl by the door, noting that hers were there as well; she'd taken a cab.

It didn't take him long to find her. He pulled the SUV to a halt at the edge of the cemetery and got out, stepping around to lean against it as he watched her from a distance. She was standing somewhat awkwardly in front of her mother's grave, and he could see that she was talking, even though he couldn't hear her of make out what she was saying. He politely looked away, not wanting to intrude.

He knew why she was here, today. It didn't take a genius to figure it out. Nineteen years ago today, Max and Ruth Keenan had gone Christmas shopping and never come home. What he didn't know was what she might be saying to her mother, or the "universe," as he'd suggested she do since she didn't believe.

From what he could see from where he was, though, it was fairly obvious she was speaking directly to her mother. She didn't do things like this often, didn't give into irrationalities. Today she was clearly going off of emotion, going off of her heart. A soft and slightly wistful smile pulled up the corners of his lips. She was learning things from him, just like he was learning from her.

His eyes strayed back to her after a long moment of gazing off down the rows, to check and see if she was coming back yet or if she was still in the same place, and he noticed quickly that her demeanor had changed. He knew she was crying.

Most of him wanted to run to her and pull her into his arms, but the other part, the part trained by logic and more specifically by her, was telling him to stay right where he was, and let her do this on her own... like she wanted to. She wouldn't forgive him otherwise, he was fairly certain.

And so, staring at her like he was, he caught the ending, and his breath caught in his throat as his brain quickly processed the movements of her lips and translated them into words.

After all that she'd gone through, all that she'd faced back then and since, after losing herself practically when her entire family vanished on her and made her feel like she didn't matter, like no one cared, he never would have dreamed she could speak those three words to her mother, who was dead and therefore not a reasonably companion for any form of conversation in her mind.

But, she did say them, and her eyes turned away and towards him directly afterwards, as if she'd known he was there the whole time. She gave him just a quick nod, as though acknowledging what he'd done by coming and at the same time showing that she wasn't mad because of it. He stayed put, waiting calmly and patiently for her to come to him at her own pace.

When she did arrive at his side, he offered his arms to her, and she gladly pressed herself into them for a moment before she stepped back, quietly dried her eyes, and climbed into the passenger's side without speaking a single word. She didn't have to, though. This was one of those times when words would have failed anyways.

As it was, the only words he could hear were those that he hadn't been able to pick up by sound moments ago. And yet, he could hear them, spoken in her voice, now, and he knew that they meant a lot. They meant that she was truly moving on, even though he'd known they were on that road for a long time. This step... it would help her. And he couldn't be grateful for much else at that point, knowing that what she'd done here today would push them only closer to peace in the end.

_"I forgive you."_

* * *

**There will be another chapter on Christmas Eve, do not fear :)**

**I thought it would be important to bring back up some of the issues that are still there, since they've been taking a back seat to more enjoyable BB fluff. But Brennan still has plenty on her mind, remember that. She's not 'over' what happened to her, not by any means. She's just been able to avoid it for a while, trying to push it away. **

**The rest of the Christmas chapters will be cheerful, though, so don't worry about that too much for now. :)  
**


	19. Chapter 19

**Well, it's Christmas Eve, and here is your promised chapter. We're skipping ahead to this same night in the story; the issues mentioned at the end of the last chapter will probably come up later, but for now it will be all about fluff. I hope you all enjoy, and have a happy holiday!!**

**Oh, and if anything doesn't seem to mesh quite right, please do mention it and I'll fix it. I wrote this back around September/October, and read it over again a few weeks ago, but I haven't had time in the past few days to give it another run through.  
**

**

* * *

**The car rounded the final corner, and Booth's eyes went wide as he stared openmouthed at the home they'd reached.

"Wow," he sputtered.

Bones seemed a little too amazed to speak.

The entire building was decked with lights, and all the plants outside were covered with them as well. The gate was adorned with the sparkling orbs in a non-conservative way too, and it nearly blinded him as he stopped the car in front of them, wondering if they would have to buzz the house to be let in, or if someone was watching and would just let them through. His question was answered for him as the sparkling gates slid open. They drove up the decorated driveway, coming to a stop near the pathway that led directly to the porch. The windows were all emitting a golden light through partially closed curtains, and he could see lit-up trees in more than one room, most of them small and decorative. Each one appeared to have a theme, he noted as he saw that one was lit green, another red, and one on the second floor white.

One would think, with all of this and the clear effort that had gone into it, that there was going to be a full-house of guests arriving tonight.

"This is going to be the smallest Christmas party I've ever been to, in the largest house I've ever been to." Booth commented, shaking his head in amusement as she stepped out of the car, he shut the door behind her, and they started on their way up the path to the large mansion.

"I've been in larger houses," she said. "Hodgins' is moderately large, but there are certainly bigger ones. In Newport, Rhode Island, there's one called The Breakers that has seventy rooms." She glanced at the building they were walking towards. "I highly doubt there are seventy rooms in there."

"Yeah, well I've never been to Newport," he said, laughing slightly at how literally she still took his comments, even now. Or perhaps she just really hadn't been thinking and had commented on impulse on it. Either way, it was still rather adorable. Not that he'd ever tell her in those exact words. She still hated being referred to as anything other than Bones by him, except for the occasional Temperance, and descriptions like 'baby' or 'adorable' fit in that category... but he wouldn't have it any other way, if he was honest with himself. "Who'd you get for the gift swap, anyways?" he asked, eyeing the present she was caring with curiosity.

"I told you that I wasn't going to say," she repeated for the fifth time that night. "You'll find out pretty soon anyways, so there's really no need to keep badgering me. I haven't even asked you once what yours is or who it's for."

"Hey, I'm allowed to be curious," he defended himself as he tapped the button for the doorbell.

Almost instantly the door was thrown open, and a beaming Angela in a green and red outfit and dangly candy cane earrings stood before them. "Merry Christmas!" she shouted cheerfully, and ushered them in.

The house was massive, no matter how small it might be compared to whatever mansions Bones had seen before. Not to mention everything in sight was decked out for the holiday, giving the sense that they'd just stepped into the Christmas department at a large mall store rather than a place where people lived.

"Wow, Ange, did you do all this?" he asked, staring around with raised eyebrows at the garlands that adorned every railing and hung around the edges of every doorway. A large wreath had been hanging on the outside of the door, and now that they were in the building he saw that a smaller one hung on this side as well, decked with miniature Christmas ornaments and glowing with lights. Those, too, were weaved in between all the garlands, a fact that became immensely obvious when Ange flicked a switch and the room suddenly became much brighter.

"Yeah," she answered his question, "I had Hodgins help, but he wasn't very creative so I sent him off to take care of the food." She suddenly stepped closer to the both of them and hissed, "Stay away from the second punch bowl, the one that's slightly fuller than the other one."

Booth's eyes widened further, not sure if he really _wanted _to know why, but Bones laughed and shook her head in amusement.

"So, are we the first ones here?" she asked.

"Yup, you are. Oh! I'll take those!" she added, and the gifts were pulled from their grasps, put on top of one another, and then carried towards a doorway leading to a room on the left side. The two of them followed along after her, and found themselves in a high ceilinged room with lights dangling from the rafters two stories up. It was darker in here, with the only lights being from above and a few lamps that were emitting a golden hew through their mistletoe and bells decorated shades. A giant tree was the final source of the glow, standing cozily in one corner and completely covered in what appeared to be almost entirely homemade ornaments. He chuckled as he noticed that several of them were shaped like bugs.

Ange set down the presents neatly under the tree, where there were already several more, probably the ones from Angela and Hodgins to whoever they'd each picked from the Secret Santa hat that Ange had passed around. There were cards, too, he realized, all stuck in between the branches of the tree. As he peered a bit closer he was able to read 'Sweets' off of the one closest to him.

"This is going to be so much fun!" Ange said, still grinning widely. Her gaze flicked over to a large widescreen television set that hung on the wall, and was playing what Booth immediately recognized as The Year Without a Santa Claus. "Hodgins left it on," she said with a sigh, and flicked it off with the remote, which she replaced on the mantle of the fireplace, which Booth hadn't even noticed in comparison to the giant Christmas tree.

Stockings were hanging along its length, each of them marked with a name. He was beginning to wonder just how many gifts Ange and Hodgins had gotten everyone, as he picked out his own name in the middle and found Brennan right next to it.

"I knew that show," Bones was saying, a thoughtful and far-off look in her eyes. "I can remember watching it around Christmas..." She was clearly struggling to find the name of it, he could see it in her expression.

"The Year Without a Santa Claus?" he provided.

"Yes!" she said, eyes sparkling with sudden excitement, "Yes, that was it! I used to _love_ it; Russ and I would stay up late and watch it right after..." she paused, eyes staring off to the side as she bit her lip, "Santa Claus is Coming to Town," she recalled, a wider grin now spreading across his face. He couldn't keep the grin off of his own, either, seeing her this happy about the holiday. Maybe it wouldn't be so difficult to get her to enjoy this after all; maybe he could give this holiday back the spirit it had had for her before her parents had gone missing. It was going fairly well so far, he thought. And he hadn't even heard hardly a word from her about how ridiculous gift giving was, like he had that first year they'd worked together. Not that he'd given her much of a chance to give him her opinion, though.

Ange was clearly just as pleased with how her friend was seemingly relaxed and enjoying this, and she was quick to steer them off to the kitchen to get some food.

"I'm sure Sweets and Cam will be here soon, and Nigel, but we'll just get started beforehand anyways. Could you two give me a hand setting out the snacks?"

"No problem," Booth said, cheekily snatching a handful of red and green festive M&M's and popping them in his mouth before picking up the bowl they'd been in and carrying it back to the room with the tree. Bones put down a bowl full of chips next to it on the coffee table, and Angela added a dish that was split into sections of separate dippings for them on the other side.

She turned and opened a cabinet as she motioned for them to go get more of the food.

"Oh, I just _know_ I'm going to eat too much here tonight," Booth said with a sigh as he looked at the steaming apple pie that was sitting on top of the oven. Bones laughed, holding a bowl filled with an assortment of chocolate candies. She popped a nonpareil into her mouth and chewed it before tossing another in as well.

"You might be right about that for the both of us," she said, eyeing the rest of the chocolates. "These things are amazing..."

"Yeah, well look at these," he added, picking up a crystal bowl filled to almost overflowing with what appeared to be roasted chestnuts. "Ange really did go all out with the holiday spirit."

"Hey, don't give her _all_ the credit, man," Hodgins said indignantly, "I did do _some_ of this, you know. I'm the one who made the quiche, for one, and that pie that you were eyeing a second ago."

"I didn't know you baked," Booth commented teasingly, to which he received a glare.

"Watch it, or you won't be getting any."

Before Booth could respond with some other witty comment, blaring music sounded from the other room, making them all jump and sending a small cascade of nuts onto the floor. Hodgins rolled his eyes and grabbed a broom from the closet as the music became instantly recognizable to all of them, even Bones, for he saw a wide smile spread across her face, and her head began to bob up and down to the beat.

_Rockin' around the Christmas tree_

_At the Christmas party hop,_

_Mistletoe hung where you can see_

_Every couple tries to stop,_

_Rockin' around the Christmas tree_

_Let the Christmas spirit ring,_

_Later we'll have some Pumpkin Pie_

_And we'll do some caroling._

Ange danced into the room cheerfully, her earrings bouncing up and down, and grabbed Hodgins away from where he'd been mixing another dip. He immediately twirled her around, and they laughed and danced around the kitchen to the beat.

Grinning widely, Booth turned to the woman next to him and raised an eyebrow. "Come on, Bones," he said, offering her his hand.

She threw back her head and laughed, seizing his outstretched limb and pulling him over and out of the other two's way as they swung around, barely avoiding banging into utilities and counter-edges.

_You will get a sentimental feeling when you hear_

_Voices singing "let's be jolly_

_Deck the halls with boughs of holly,"_

_Rockin' around the Christmas tree,_

_Have a happy holiday_

_Everyone dancin' merrily,_

_In the new old-fashioned way._

As the music roared through the kitchen and the rest of the house between the next chorus, the sound of a doorbell ringing could be faintly heard. Ange hopped away from Hodgins, still bouncing slightly up and down, and motioned towards the door before rushing off energetically to let whoever it was in.

Hodgins chuckled, shaking his head as he went back to the counter and took the spoon back up. Bones broke away and halted the dancing entirely, but the laughter shining in her eyes showed him that she'd really enjoyed it.

They all looked up as the sound of a door shutting reverberated through the house just as another chorus line started. Angela led a nervous looking Sweets into the kitchen, and promptly filled him a cup of punch... from the second bowl, Booth noticed.

As he greeted them, obviously feeling a bit out of place in a non-work setting surrounded by his usual coworkers, they each quickly got themselves punch as well... from the other bowl, and started up with some small talk. But Ange wouldn't have any of that, instead pulling them all towards the living room again, save for Hodgins, and flipping through the buttons on her radio before cranking up the volume. _Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree_ had only just ended, and she clearly was assuming that they needed a new tune in the background.

A moment later _Home for the Holidays_ rang out of the apparently surround sound speakers, and they all chuckled as Ange swept Sweets off of the armchair he'd settled into and danced him around in the open space in front of the tree.

The doorbell rang only a moment later, and seeing that Ange was rather occupied with a self-conscious Sweets who looked like he'd rather be observing than being the center of attention, Booth got up and went to answer it himself.

Cam stood on the doorstep, wearing a green shirt with three peppermint candies across the front and a darker green skirt. She scowled at him, looking his outfit up and down. "Ange said that we had to dress up 'or else.' What's _that_ supposed to be?"

He laughed and held the door open for her. "This happens to be all I had available," he said, gesturing to his white t-shirt and jeans combo. He pulled up his pant leg slightly, revealing his Santa and elf covered red and green socks, "But I did wear these. Do they count?"

She rolled her eyes and pushed past him, sniffing the air appreciatively. "Mm... is that hot chocolate I smell?"

"Probably; Ange has had Hodgins slaving away in the kitchen all day, I think."

Another car appeared behind Cam's, the lights blinking out before the door opened. He pointed her towards the living room, where the music had switched to a cheerful rendition of _It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year,_ and then held the door open as Nigel came up the stairs, looking even more out of place then Sweets.

Booth clapped him on the back and shut the door behind him before leading the way to the others. Ange collected the gifts from the newcomers and added them to the pile, but Booth barely noticed. He was too busy staring in amused amazement at what had apparently transpired since he'd left only a moment ago. Somehow or other, Bones was now dancing with Sweets, and Cam was almost dying of laughter in a nearby chair. A satisfied Angela stood off to the side, and Booth caught her eye and saw her pulling a camera off of a nearby shelf. She put a finger to her lips, her eyes warning him not to say a word. He wouldn't have tried to stop her for the world though, as he watched her quietly snap a few shots without the flash, so as not to alert them, and then tuck it back where it had been originally. He hoped the lighting was good enough in here, because those pictures would be incredible to show her later if they came out.

He picked up his cup of punch and hers from where they'd set them down, and sipped at his own as he held out the other cup to her when the song came to an end. She looked slightly embarrassed, but he gave her a quick kiss and squeezed her shoulders reassuringly, grinning down at her.

She blushed slightly, and turned her attention to her drink. Sweets, meanwhile, was actually looking a bit more confident with the party, and sat talking to Nigel and Cam while Ange went off to the kitchen. Everyone had arrived, so assumably the party would 'really' start now. At least, that's what he'd guess going off of how well he knew Angela.

A moment later, as predicted, Hodgins came in behind his wife, and was sent to sit next to him and Bones while Ange stayed standing to address them all. The music died out in the background, and she hit the stop button to keep another track from beginning.

"Okay, so I'd like to thank you all for coming, and so would Jack," they all laughed as Hodgins raised a hand in acknowledgment. "We've got plenty of snacks around, but there's more in the kitchen and some dessert for _later_," she gave Booth a meaningful look, "Plus we've got some hot cocoa which we can go get now if you'd like... and whether you want to start with games or opening gifts, it's all fine with me."

"Games?" Cam asked with a raised eyebrow. So, at least he wasn't the only one that had missed that memo.

Ange smiled devilishly. "Yes, games. I've got it all planned out. Oh, and these are _not_ optional," she added, and pulled out a stack of red and white fuzzy things. As soon as she pulled one on Booth realized what it was, and half-groaned.

For that, he had the next one tossed right at him, and caught it in surprise.

"Put it on," Ange ordered sternly, and then passed out the rest of them.

Nigel looked outrageous in the Santa hat, as did Sweets, but it was all in good amusement, and with all of them wearing them it didn't really matter so much. Although, he had to say that Bones looked gorgeous in hers. He'd have to remember to make sure Ange got a picture of him and her together with them on, so he'd be able to look back on this again.

They all fetched steaming mugs of cocoa overflowing with whipped cream and sat back down in their seats. Booth stirred his with his candy cane, while Bones pulled hers out of the mug and licked the cream off of it.

"Let's start simple," Ange said, clasping her hands together.

"How worried should we be?" Booth muttered to Hodgins.

"Very," he replied.

"I figured we'd get started with a variation on truth or dare. So... Bren, sweetie, let's start with you."

"What?" she said, sounding slightly alarmed.

"Relax, the idea is to tell the group an interesting fact that the rest of us don't know already. About _yourself_," she added quickly, glancing towards Nigel. "Doesn't have to be huge, just something to get us all in the sharing and friendly mood."

Bones hesitated, biting her lip and looking at the floor. Booth suddenly wondered if this was such a good idea, but then she suddenly looked up with determination, and a bit of amusement, in her eyes. "Got one," she said. Ange grinned eagerly, and Booth eyed her with apprehension. There was a bit too much of a mischievous glimmer in her expression, and when she glanced at him quickly before beginning it only aided in that feeling. "Well, two Christmases ago..."

Sweets, who had perked up with great interest when this so-called 'game' was mentioned, suddenly opened his mouth as his eyes widened. He knew what this was just as much as Booth did, but the rest of the people in the room had no clue.

"I wanted to give my father Christmas even though he was in prison, and so I asked Caroline to make some arrangements so he and Russ could come to a trailer and have Amy and her kids join them to celebrate. But..." she glanced at him again, "Caroline doesn't give favors for nothing, and so she asked me to do something in return. Which... I think I sort of understand now, after what everyone's been telling me since Booth and I finally got together." Booth flicked his eyes to Angela, smirking as he saw how she was hanging onto every word eagerly, and then he turned his attention back to Bones again. "So, Booth comes to my office with news on the case, and I'm hanging mistletoe from my ceiling, and he has _no_ clue why."

"Oh my god," Ange muttered, her smile continuously widening as the story went on.

"So Caroline shows up, and tells us she's got the trailer deal all set up for me, and meanwhile Booth looks like he wants to be anywhere but there, and he keeps looking at the mistletoe like it's going to bite him." Cam and Hodgins both laughed, while a slightly lost Nigel, who hadn't been around for the case and who hadn't seen much of Caroline, tried to follow what was being said. Bones was grinning by now, too, clearly enjoying this. And he would have thought that this would be something to embarrass her... while instead it actually seemed to be doing so to him far more efficiently. "So she told me, before, all these specifications, and made it very clear that it had to be on the lips for at least eight seconds. And, instead, it goes on for about twelve, and Booth ends up with _my_ gum, in _his_ mouth."

Ange looked like she might faint, but instead shouted, "How come you never told me about that!?" at a ridiculous voice level.

"Because you'd react like this," Bones said, still smiling widely. "And we weren't dating then. The last thing I needed was to give you more ammo to use on me on your 'list of reasons why Booth and Brennan should go out.'"

Ange was shaking her head in disbelief, and Cam hadn't stopped laughing yet. Hodgins chuckled and punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Scared of mistletoe, man?" he joked.

"Okay, Sweets' turn!" Ange called, and the room quieted down again as they all turned their attention to the suddenly panicked psychologist.

"Um... okay, I don't really have a story," he said nervously.

"Fine, fine," Ange waved him off, "Just anything, really."

He coughed slightly, "Okay, those two already know this..." he gestured towards him and Bones, "But the rest of you don't. I, um... actually used to coach salespeople in psychology to make money when I was younger."

They all smiled good-naturedly at him, but Hodgins spoke up, "Not cool," he said, shaking his head.

"Jack," Ange said, giving him a hard look. He settled back in his seat.

"I don't like car salesmen," he muttered under his breath.

"Yeah, we know," Booth said, punching him in the shoulder just a bit harder than how he'd been hit only a moment ago.

"Why don't you go next," Ange cut in, raising an eyebrow at her husband.

"Right. Okay... last year, I was studying the eating habits of spiders and their effects on the activities of marsh flies... and when I came back from lunch break I realized I'd left the top of the cage open and... well, some of them were missing."

Cam suddenly bolted upright, "I spent two _weeks_ killing spiders in my office, Hodgins!" she exclaimed.

He winced while the rest of them laughed. "Yeah... sorry about that."

"Nigel?" Ange called on the youngest member of the group.

"What? I... um..." he stammered, "...uh, well... when I was in college, this one girl asked me out... and on the first date, I was so nervous I started telling her facts, since she'd said she thought it was... cute... how I did that... and I ended up telling her about how alligator-skin purses are actually made, since I saw she had one... and I never saw her again after that."

There was silence, and Sweets gave the younger man a reassuring clap on the back. Booth was relieved he wasn't the only one who'd held in their laughter. It wasn't exactly the most amusing story, and the kid looked self-conscious enough as it was. Plus, Bones liked him and the rest of the team did too, and he didn't want anyone to upset her.

"I'll go," Ange volunteered herself quickly. "Only Hodgins knows this one."

"Oh god," Hodgins muttered, clearly concerned it was going to be something incredibly revealing.

"Relax, nothing like that," she said, "This is actually something from when I was younger. When I was fifteen, my dad moved us to this area, and I wanted a fresh start. So I changed my name, and he actually said he approved of the whole thing. Though, he was always rather easy-going about what I wanted. Except when it came to moving," she added bitterly. She glanced at Bones as she said it, and they exchanged sad looks.

"So what was your name before?" Sweets asked curiously.

"Rose," she said, grimacing. "Ugh, I like Angela _much_ better."

"You never told me that," Bones said softly.

Ange winced. "I know, sweetie... I'm sorry. I just didn't want it to matter, you know? As far as I was concerned I was Angela, and Rose didn't exist. That was when I started focusing more on art, too... before that I was actually the quiet kid who just doodled, if any of you can believe that. When we moved near here I took up painting for the first time."

"Seriously?" Booth asked. That was nearly an impossible image to conjure up... a quiet and shy Angela, sitting at the back of a classroom twirling a pencil across a paper in no distinct pattern.

Bones, thank god, seemed to have accepted the truth of Angela's words, because she was nodding and smiling in gentle understanding. Ange beamed back at her in relief, and then spun and pointed to Cam, who groaned.

"Fine, alright, I'll go," she muttered when they all stared expectantly at her. "Um... well, this one's embarrassing on my part, and I think most of you probably suspected it or knew it already, but I'll just tell it anyways. When I first came to the Jeffersonian, I actually was foolish enough to ask Booth what he'd do if I fired Dr. Brennan, thinking he'd really take my side."

Angela and Hodgins stared at her in surprise, probably more so for the fact she was choosing to tell this particular piece when it was from the time when they'd all pretty much hated her. Bones' eyebrows were raised as well.

"And so imagine my surprise when he tells me that he's with her no matter what, and basically that if I got rid of the center of the Jeffersonian, everyone else would just quit and I'd have... well, _no_ circus to run." She looked around their little group apprehensively, "It's not particularly amusing, or incredibly embarrassing... but I thought of it, and I figured it might be important that you all know what an ass I think I was, looking back."

They all managed to laugh a bit at the end of her statement, and Hodgins was nodding his head in an exaggerated manner. "You _hated_ spam," he remembered, and immediately the light-hearted manner of the evening returned.

"I just remember you walking in while Zach and Hodgins were burning the fake body, and the look on your face," Brennan added in, and the smile and spark of amusement in her eyes surprised him, and probably everyone else, too.

What an odd group they were, Booth thought, with their mismatched talents all working together, all forming an inseparable family.

"Booth's last," Ange said, and immediately he felt that thought vanish like a character going up in a puff of smoke from one of Parker's cartoons. Crap, he should have been thinking of good ideas while the others were sharing.

He pondered for a second, searching through his mind for a reasonable story to share. It would be something about Bones, he decided, since she'd chosen to use one of him. Then he smiled widely, remembering one particular event.

"Okay, so I suppose you remember Kenton?" he started. He felt Bones stiffen beside him, and he put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a reassuring look. Both Hodgins and Angela nodded, but the other three were staring at him curiously. He sighed, then explained quickly, "We had two cases at once, and someone was attempting to kill Bones while we worked on them," he explained, his grip around her shoulders tightening as he pulled her closer against him... something that didn't go unnoticed by Angela, who's eyes flashed happily. "Anyways, that's not what this is about, it was just... during those cases. I brought her to her apartment, and it was the first time I'd ever been there. But so, I tell her that I'm going to stay there with her and make sure she's safe, and she's immediately all defensive." He smiled softly down at her next to him and rubbed his hand up and down her arm warmly. "And then I find out she has no tv, so I go through her music collection, and what do I find but a Foreigner CD, right in plain sight like she'd just played it recently."

She rolled her eyes, but the rest of them seemed quite interested in where this was going.

"So I plug it in, and Hot Blooded starts to play. There I am, making an idiot out of myself with an air guitar, singing along with the music and expecting her to just be a killjoy and turn it off... and instead she throws up her leg in this kick and jumps in and starts singing and dancing _with_ me."

By now all eyes were staring with shock at Bones, who was quite intently studying the pattern of the cloth on the couch they were seated on.

"Then of course her phone rings, and its her boyfriend," he scowled slightly at that, and left the story there.

"A bit jealous?" she asked, surprising him.

"Yes," he admitted with a grin, "I didn't like him, anyways. And turned out I was right, wasn't I?"

"One story," she warned him seriously, "You told one story already."

He grinned, "I know, Bones, and I wasn't going to tell that one anyways." She nodded, and he kissed her softly. She smiled back at him when he pulled away a few inches, and he knew he was forgiven for sharing that particular event.

"I... cannot see you doing that. Booth, yes, but you..." Cam said in disbelief, shaking her head.

Ange, recovering from her apparent excitement over the two of them kissing in front of her, quickly followed up with, "Neither can I, especially back then. You worked your magic _fast_, Booth," she added appreciatively.

"I'm still amazed, too, you know, and I was _there_," Booth added.

"I'd have liked to have seen that," Sweets muttered, and the rest of them immediately seconded that.

"Moving on, now?" Bones said, raising an eyebrow at Angela to tell her to get things rolling on to a new topic.

"Oh, right! Sorry... how about we do gifts now?"

The general consensus was for it, and Ange quickly reached under the tree and pulled out a thin, flat box, which Booth immediately recognized as the one he'd brought with him.

Ange read the tag and passed it to Nigel. "It's from Booth," she said.

"Hey! What exactly happened to the 'secret' part?" he asked indignantly.

She shrugged, "I know everyone's handwriting," she explained. "Besides... it's more fun if it gets spoiled, and it _always_ does."

He rolled his eyes, and tossed another handful of M&Ms into his mouth, crunching them all at once.

"Wow... thank you," Nigel said in surprise, holding up the two hockey tickets.

Booth shrugged, "I figured you could take a date... you know, get out of the lab, enjoy some sports."

Nigel nodded, and attention was brought back to Ange as she rustled through the stack beneath the tree, muttering to herself.

"Ah, here's one from Nigel... to Hodgins!" she passed her husband the shoebox-sized parcel, and he shook it interestedly before pulling off the paper and opening it.

"Oh, totally cool, man," he said, eyes widening excitedly as he pulled out a jar, in which was a large bug of some sort. Ange immediately cringed away, and gave Nigel a slightly unfriendly look.

"You're keeping that at work, whatever it is," she said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

"Sure..." he murmured, obviously barely hearing her as he held it up to his eyes and stared through the slightly dirty glass. "Dude, where did you _get_ this?"

Nigel coughed uncomfortably and looked away, and Ange haphazardly grabbed another gift and shoved it at Cam without reading the tag.

"From you, I'm going to assume," the coroner commented, her eyes running over the smooth cursive on the tag and then nodding, clearly able to recognize it without confirmation from the artist. She undid the fancy ribbon and then pulled two things from the box.

"For your office," Ange said simply.

"Wow," Cam said, her eyes widening as she looked back and forth between the small and yet incredibly detailed painting of a flower and the rather expensive looking stationary set, complete with what looked like pens in just about every color.

"You're old paper was boring," Ange said unabashedly.

"Yeah... thanks," Cam said sincerely, her eyebrows still up at her hairline. "This is... this is _great_."

Ange beamed, and then promptly scooped up another gift without looking at the tag and handed it off to Sweets, who glanced at Hodgins. The entomologist sighed and nodded, and the gift was torn open.

It was a large box of candy, and Sweets turned to him with a confused expression.

"They're sweets," Hodgins said in explanation. The room filled with laughter quickly, Sweets grinning in amusement as he opened the package and pulled out a rather intricately made little truffle. "And don't think those were cheap or I skimped on the gift. Those were the best damn chocolates I could find."

"You _are_ going to share a few, aren't you?" Cam asked, raising an eyebrow as she leaned over the box and appraised the different chocolates with interest.

He offered her one, which she readily accepted. The box was then closed and put to the side, and the rest of them returned to the chips and candies available on the coffee table. Bones drank the last of her hot chocolate and set it down next to Booth's already empty mug. But he noticed that she hung on to the candy cane, sucking on the end of it like small kid with a lollipop. He couldn't help but smile at her, and it took him a moment to realize that Ange had been saying his name.

She was smirking as she held out a box to him. "Something a little more interesting than Christmas presents, is it, Booth?" she asked.

He snatched the box from her and gave her a mock hurt look, to which she responded with an even sweeter smile. His eyes strayed quickly to Bones as his hands pulled apart the wrapping. She was staring back at him, her hat slightly lopsided on her head from the way she'd been leaning up against him. He chuckled and pulled the box out of its paper before setting it on his lap, tossing the paper aside, and reaching over to straighten it for her, his hand sliding down the side of her face afterwards.

"It's a good thing we're all so glad you two are together at last, or we'd be reacting the way we did when Hodgins or Ange did that at work everyday," Cam said jokingly.

He smiled slightly at that, but didn't turn away from her until a moment later, when he slowly focused back on the gift. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, that she glanced slightly embarrassedly at the rest of the people in the room before her attention focused on what he was opening.

"What is it?" she asked curiously as he pulled it out.

"A watch," he said, eyeing it with interest. He looked around the group and then his eyes found Cam. "Seriously?" he asked.

"Yeah," she answered, laughing, "You aren't easy to shop for, you know. I very nearly bought you some new crazy socks and a tie, but then I figured you had enough of those, and you probably wouldn't want that sort of thing for Christmas from me anyways. So I went for practical."

"It's nice," he commented, "Very nice. Thanks."

She nodded, looking uncomfortable at how she appeared to have been the only one to get someone a non-personal gift. Booth could hardly blame her, though; how on earth would she be expected to get him something personal that wouldn't be weird given the fact that they'd dated before? He smiled at her and set the box back down on the table.

"I'll figure out how to program it later," he said, "Or I'll give it to my genius to do it for me."

"Since when am I 'your genius'?" Bones asked indignantly from next to him. He laughed and she shoved his shoulder with mock anger, poking him in the ribs a second later and making him jump away with a slight yelp of surprise.

"Oh, here's one for me!" Ange said, interrupting before anyone could comment or tease Booth for the latest occurrence, as she held up a box and shook it. She grinned as she checked the handwriting, and then ripped it open without telling the rest of them who it was from, although at this point the number of people that could have gotten her name out of the hat was dwindling.

His eyes flicked to Bones once more, something they did constantly and with quite a bit of frequency tonight especially it seemed, and he saw her expression and read it instantly. He chuckled and nudged her, "That's yours," he said, realizing it.

"I'd have thought you'd have realized that already, from how often you kept trying to snatch it from me to figure out what I got." Her tone had an edge to it he couldn't quite identify, and he realized that her eyes hadn't moved even slightly from Ange's face from the moment she'd picked up the present. Whatever it was, clearly she was concerned about what the reaction would be. He immediately turned his full attention to the little box Ange was opening.

"Oh, _wow_..." Ange murmured softly.

"What? What is it?" Hodgins questioned, straining to see from his seat.

She held it up, eyes sparkling with emotion. It was a photograph, in an intricate silver frame that appeared to be made from the stems of small metal flowers and leaves all twined together. What immediately caught his attention, though, was more so the picture itself.

"You still had this?" she asked Bones, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Of course," she said, "I have the whole strip, actually... but that was the best one, so I had it enlarged. I usually... don't look through my old things... but I found the box in the closet a while back, so I knew it was in there... and I thought you might appreciate it."

"I do," Ange whispered. By now, everyone was craning forward to get a better glimpse of it, and so the artist passed it straight over to Booth, who immediately sat back and stared at it with Bones right beside him, smiling wistfully.

"Wow..." he murmured.

"Yeah," she said with a sigh. "It was a long time ago."

It was a picture of two teenage girls, one skinny and pale, the other vibrant with her hair in a high ponytail. And yet... there was so much energy in the picture that he just wanted to hug Angela for it. He knew she was the cause, the reason that Bones looked so... _happy_ in the picture, in the midst of all she was going through. Ange had given her that, the moment to laugh in a photo booth just like every other kid their age did on probably a regular basis, probably making faces... suddenly he wished he could see the other pictures that they'd gotten that day.

He could see, too, why she'd picked this particular picture, even though he hadn't seen the other ones. It was such a symbol of what their friendship must have been to her... he knew he couldn't even begin to imagine what their connection must have been like way back then, and how it must have made Bones feel. The urge to hug Ange was getting stronger.

Unwillingly he passed the frame over to Hodgins, who'd been looking at it from the side at not a very good angle while Booth had been staring at it. He gently pressed his fingers over it, rubbing them over the laughing face of his beautiful Bones seventeen years or so ago before he relinquished it. And then he pulled her up against him warmly again, and pressed his face into her hair, kissing the top of her head softly.

"I love you," he whispered softly.

She smiled softly back at him, and responded with a soft kiss to his cheek, which was as good as a repeat of the phrase aimed back at him. He could see it shining in her eyes, too.

Ange appeared to still be a little lost for words, and as the picture made its way down to a fascinated Sweets, and then an awed Cam and an amazed Nigel, she picked up the largest gift and passed it silently to Bones, her eyes filled with emotion.

She read the tag silently, her eyes immediately flicking up to Sweets before going back down as she ripped off the paper. It was rather large, and it rattled whenever it was moved. Booth glanced at Sweets, too, wondering what on earth he'd gotten her.

"Clue?" she asked, frowning.

"Clue!" Booth said, catching sight of the familiar box still half covered in torn paper. He swept the rest of the wrapping away. "Oh, _awesome!_" he laughed, and then grinned wider as he looked under it, at a second box, "And Sorry! Oh, Sweets, you are a genius."

The comment startled and then immensely pleased the psychologist, who grinned in amazement. "Thank you," Brennan said, but her tone conveyed more confusion than actual sincerity. Booth sighed.

"Bones, it's a board game. You've played board games before, haven't you?"

"Scrabble," she said with a nod.

"It's a murder mystery game, absolutely nothing like Scrabble. I'll teach you how to play. And Sorry... well Parker _loves_ that game. Shuffling the cards over and over gets a little tedious, but it's worth it." He turned his attention back to Sweets, "What made you think to buy games, of all things?" he asked.

"I'm a psychologist," he said, shrugging, "I thought it might be best to go for something that might stimulate lost concepts and make for better connections..."

"Sure," Booth said, waving him off. "It was still a great idea though."

"Why don't we play that after this?" Ange suggested eagerly, eyeing the game the same way Booth had, clearly willing to relive her childhood again with the familiar board and pieces. Hodgins looked interested, too, and Cam looked amused, but also willing.

"Looks like we finished with the gift exchange," Booth commented, nodding towards where the bottom of the tree was now completely cleared out of gifts.

"Yup, now we have these," Ange said, plucking a card off the tree, reading the name, and then going over to the fireplace to collect a stocking with the same name on it. Booth leaned forward and recognized it as Nigel. She passed the two items to him, and then headed back to collect the items for each person down the line, until Bones, as the one on the far end, had hers as well. "These are just our gifts to you guys for coming, for being great friends... whatever you want to call it. Just open them, and don't complain. It's not like our money was really doing anything, anyways."

"Nope, just benefiting the Jeffersonian," Hodgins said with a grin. He and Ange watched as the rest of them opened their cards and started to read. Booth's featured a sleeping kitten with a sparkling red glitter Santa hat on its head. He had no doubt that Ange had picked it out herself, and judging from the puppy on the front of Bones' card, she'd done everyone's.

_ Booth, MERRY CHRISTMAS!_ His card started in brilliant, large green letters, followed by several hearts and a line of x's and o's. He chuckled and read the standard Christmas greetings and well wishes that it was filled with before he got back to where Ange's handwriting picked up for the factory-made typing. _Have a wonderful Christmas, G-man, and make full use of any mistletoe you come across! (PS-when are you going to ask her????)_

Trust Ange to end a cheerful card like that, he thought with a short laugh. He glanced over at her, and she gave him a sheepish look in return. But, he was in the Christmas mood, so he figured he might as well tell her...

_Soon_, he mouthed, and her eyes flew wide open as her grin immediately engulfed her face.

Hodgins gave her a weird look, having not seen what Booth said and most likely not even knowing what Ange had written in the card, but everyone else was either still reading or peering into the stocking, so none of them noticed the exchange.

He turned his own attention back to the stocking, and realized that it must be from Hodgins, and the card more specifically from Ange. They'd gotten everyone separate gifts. From next to him, Bones laughed as she pulled a package from her stocking. Booth already had his out, and was making a face at it.

'Chocolate covered bugs!' his read in large block letters. From the looks of it, they were real, too. "Ugh," he muttered.

Bones seemed unfazed, and in fact opened the box and held up a chocolate chunk. Grinning at him, she popped it in her mouth, chewed it, and swallowed. "Not bad," she commented to Hodgins. "Thanks."

"No problem," he answered, laughing too.

Booth set his down without opening it. She could have his if she wanted them, although he'd prefer if she didn't.

Cam was looking disturbed, and Sweets and Nigel both had reactions similar to Booth's. They all put their gifts aside as well, and then avoided the chocolates that were on the coffee table, although Booth was still willing to trust the safety of the M&M's.

"Well, I want some pie," Booth said, getting to his feet. "Just so long as Hodgins didn't add any extra ingredients."

"Relax, just apples, flour... etcetera. I wanted to, but Ange caught me before I could dump the extra box of those into it."

"Can we see proof that the extra box is sealed?" Sweets asked hesitantly.

They all laughed, and made their way to the kitchen. Everyone got a slice of pie, minus Bones, who helped herself to the quiche.

A few minutes later the music had been flipped back on and another round of _Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree_ rang out while they set up the Clue board.

"There are seven of us," Sweets pointed out with a frown, holding up the six pieces.

"I'll team up with Bones," Booth offered, "Since she doesn't know how to play."

"Cool. I call Mustard," Hodgins said, snatching the little yellow piece.

"Scarlet!" Ange called out.

Nigel took Green, Booth encouraged Bones to grab Peacock, and Cam and Sweets were left to argue over White and Plum. A satisfied Cam ended up with Plum, while a rather shamefaced Sweets was forced to take Mrs. White as his character.

"I'm confused, why does it matter? Aren't they all colors?" Bones asked, in the way only she could.

"We all have childhood favorites, you know, the character you always were. I was a Mustard, personally."

She still seemed confused as to the importance of this, but didn't question it again, and turned with interest back to the others as the cards were separated, the answer ones picked and put safely in their designated spots, and then all of them shuffled together and passed out.

"Here, check off what we have," Booth instructed her, handing her the little pencil and pushing their card at her as he sorted the cards into their categories.

She caught on very quickly, and was soon not giving Booth a chance as she took charge of the question asking whenever their turn came around. He sat back and watched her, smiling at how her face lit up with excitement when she crossed off Green as a suspect and had it narrowed down to the murderer, which was Scarlet.

"Looks like you don't need to look at the bones to solve a murder, huh, Bones?" he teased.

"Well, a fictional murder," she corrected, then added thoughtfully, "It's like what you do, going around and asking questions to get answers. Although, in real life it would certainly not be so easy. The murderer would lie, rather than providing the cards that incriminated him upon being asked."

He laughed and then grabbed her empty punch glass and refilled it from the punch bowl, both of which were now in the same room on some sort of dessert cart along with all the other food, which made getting what they wanted much easier instead of having to travel to the kitchen every time. Ange got up too, and headed over to get more for herself, which prompted a break for all of them. Cards were set down and cups refilled as a bowl of popcorn was passed around.

"Wrong bowl!" Hodgins suddenly shouted, stopping Ange's hand as she was lifting her newly refilled cup up to her mouth.

The sound of Sweets choking in surprise on the punch he'd just gotten from this 'wrong bowl' was the only sound in the room.

Ange's cup immediately was shoved onto the table and she looked at it in alarm.

"Um... exactly what's... wrong with it?" Sweets asked hesitantly, eyeing the punch he'd been drinking most of the night suspiciously.

"Well, I guess we might as well explain now, huh?" Hodgins asked her.

She grinned, "Well, we were going to anyways..."

"Okay, everyone, we have an announcement!" he called, although he already had everyone's attention.

"Oh!" Booth gasped before they'd even had a chance to explain. He glanced between the clearly spiked punch and Angela with suddenly wide eyes.

She grinned back. "I think Booth figured it out on his own."

"Seriously?" he asked. The rest of them were looking impatient, and Bones was frowning, clearly annoyed that she couldn't understand the situation when Booth already had.

She nodded. "I'm pregnant," she informed the room, which was suddenly filled with first shocked silence, and then roaring with congratulations and cheering.

Sweets congratulated them, but then was quick to ask exactly what was in the punch.

"Pure alcohol," Hodgins said, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"That would explain why I'm starting to feel weird..." Sweets muttered.

Bones stepped forward and engulfed her friend in a tight hug. "Congratulations," Booth heard her murmur sincerely, her eyes shining with happiness for her.

"So, this is the first of the million?" Cam asked lightheartedly.

"We'll see," Ange provided for an answer, and Hodgins laughed.

"We already came to an agreement on this... we'll stop when we both decide to. Hopefully before we have too many to handle."

"How long have you known?" Sweets piped up curiously.

"Well, you aren't supposed to tell anyone before twelve weeks," Ange said, "But that falls in just a couple of days, so we were pretty sure it was safe to tell you all. Besides, we wanted it to be a Christmas surprise."

"That's one heck of a surprise," Sweets said, to which they all nodded in complete agreement.

"Well, this makes Clue look awfully insignificant and boring, doesn't it?" Booth joked.

"Oh, right!" Ange said, apparently remembering the game which they'd all abandoned. "I was doing really well, too," she added, and led the way back to their seats.

* * *

"This was by far the best Christmas party I've ever been to," Booth informed everyone as they pulled on their jackets. Outside, it had started snowing again, adding even more white fluff to the ground which had already been coated by it.

"Thanks," Ange told him warmly, "We did our best. This should become an annual tradition, don't you think?" she added, glancing over her shoulder at Hodgins.

"I'd do this again," Cam said, chuckling as a tired-looking Sweets supported himself against her shoulder. "Although preferably without the spiking of the drinks again. I'm just glad I didn't have very much of it."

"This was the best Christmas I've ever had," a soft voice murmured from next to him, and he looked down and met her crystal blue eyes, the joy he saw there edged just slightly by sorrow and clear memories from Christmases of the past.

"I'm glad," he murmured, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her softly. "And you're going to enjoy tomorrow morning," he added. "I promise." Then he turned back to Angela and Hodgins, "I want copies of those pictures," he said with a lopsided grin. Ange had gotten her camera out again shortly after Sweets had astounded them all by winning the game, and they'd all passed it around, getting goofy pictures of one another and just generally fooling around like teenagers. Booth was dying to see how some of the ones of Bones would come out.

"I'll make sure to have extras made," she promised, "And everyone will get a copy of the group shot in front of the tree. I think we should all have that as a reminder of our first Christmas celebration outside of work together."

"Definitely," Hodgins agreed. "So, we'll see you all in a couple days, I guess."

"Back at work," Cam agreed with a sigh. Then her gaze swung over to him and Bones, "You," she said, poking a finger at him, "Don't you dare let her go back to that lab until Monday, got it?"

He laughed, "I won't be letting her out of my sight," he promised. Bones made a face, but didn't seem too bothered by the arrangements. He beamed to think that she would actually rather stay at home with him then go to work. Her only irritation was probably that she was being _forced_ to stay home even if she _did_ want to go and look at skeletons on Christmas.

"Congratulations again!" Cam called, "And Merry Christmas!" she added before she separated herself from Sweets as she went down the front porch steps, her gifts in a bag. The psychologist fell against Nigel, who looked alarmed by this.

The rest of them bid their farewells too, repeating their congratulations for the couple as well, and followed her. Nigel was left to give Sweets a ride home.

Booth opened her door for her, and then went around and climbed into the driver's side.

"We'll just go pick up Parker from Rebecca's, and head back to the apartment for the night. We're gunna need all the sleep we can get; last time Park woke me up at six to go open presents."

"Rebecca really let you have him two years in a row?"

"It wasn't easy, believe me," he answered, shaking his head. "But Parker was so excited about the idea, I don't think she could argue."

"Well, I expect a child his age would be excited regardless, since it's Christmas and he's getting to see his father."

Booth chuckled, "No, Bones, he's excited about getting spend Christmas with _you_. He begged me to help him find you a gift, and this is all he's been talking about every time I've spoken with him since Rebecca agreed to it."

He didn't miss the pleased look that crossed her face, and the way her eyes brightened even more. "I'll make sure to thank him, then," she said softly. "And... I'm pretty sure he'll like what I got him for a gift."

Booth looked at her in surprise, "What? I didn't know you got him something, Bones."

She smiled teasingly at him, "That's because I'm better at keeping secrets than you are."

"I don't suppose you'll tell me what you got him?"

"You suppose right."

He laughed, and muttered complainingly under his breath, getting her to laugh out loud along with him. They reached Rebecca's place, and the door opened almost immediately. Booth stepped out of the vehicle as Parker hurtled through the snow towards him.

"Dad!" he launched himself into Booth's arms, and he grinned down at his son.

"Merry Christmas, pal," he greeted him.

"Bones!" Parker shouted as he released his grip on his father and waved excitedly at her. She waved back from inside the car.

Rebecca appeared in the doorway, and Booth told him to get himself buckled in before he headed up the walkway to collect Parker's things from her.

She passed him the duffel bag and was, surprisingly, smiling. "Make sure he has a good Christmas," she told him. Apparently the Christmas spirit hadn't been washed out of her by the fact Parker was leaving. Mark appeared in the doorway behind her and nodded to Booth in greeting. He nodded back curtly.

"I will. I'll drop him back here Sunday?"

"Good. I'll see you then. And Merry Christmas."

"To you, too. Thank you, really. This means a lot to me, and Bones."

Rebecca's eyes flashed with something he couldn't recognize for a split second, but then returned to normal. She waved him farewell, and then stepped back inside with Mark.

Booth made his way back down the walkway and climbed back into the car. He found Bones chatting with Parker, who was filling her in on the gifts he'd gotten from his mother, Mark, and his grandparents.

"Can we listen to Christmas music?" he asked eagerly as they pulled away and turned to head back towards the apartment.

Booth grinned and flicked on the radio, which was in the middle of _Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer_. Bones shocked him by knowing all of the words, and adding in the extra lines that weren't included in this version.

"I still remember all of it," she said, her face glowing with pride as it ended.

"Why, did you forget last year?" Parker asked, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

"No, Parker, I didn't," she said, smiling gently as she leaned around to look at him. "I just haven't actually celebrated Christmas in a long time."

He watched his son's eyes widen in the rearview mirror.

"Why wouldn't you celebrate Christmas?" he asked, obviously shocked at the idea.

She glanced at Booth, and then answered hesitantly, "Not everyone celebrates Christmas, Parker. But... mostly I didn't have anyone to celebrate with."

If it was possible, his eyes got wider at that.

"What about your parents?"

Oh, they were not entering safe ground here. Not at all. He tensed, not sure how she was going to go about answering that.

"I celebrated with my dad two years ago," she said calmly, "You remember bringing us a tree, don't you?"

"Yeah!" he said, his face breaking into an instant grin as he recalled that memory.

She nodded, and Booth saw her smiling kindly at the boy. He hoped his son was done questioning her about it. He wasn't, though. Not quite yet.

"But now you're going to celebrate it with _us!_" Parker added.

She laughed, and Booth chuckled slightly too. "Yes, Parker, I'm going to celebrate it with you."

"Have you gotten any presents yet?" the topic changed quickly as Parker's interest went to different things.

"Yes, I have, actually," she answered, and told him about the board games and the chocolate covered bugs.

She kept the conversation going for the whole ride, and Booth couldn't keep the smile of his face at how easily she interacted with his kid. And she claimed she wasn't good around children... nonsense. Every time she was with Parker she proved herself more and more wrong about that.

They arrived back home, and Booth parked the car and helped Parker carry his things up the stairs. Bones got the front door for them, and then led the way to the elevator rather than taking the time to do the stairs. They were all pretty tired, and laden down with bags and items.

"I did some decorating earlier," Booth muttered to her as they stepped into the apartment.

"What do you mean?" she asked, looking around as she set down her things on couch and took off her jacket.

He bent down to plug in the Christmas tree, and when it came on the rest of the room lit up with dully glowing bulbs as well, giving the living room a far more homey and cheerful look to it.

"Awesome!" Parker exclaimed.

He hadn't gone all out, or done nearly as much as Angela and Hodgins had, but the border of lights along the edges of the ceiling made a pretty nice difference.

"Time for bed, Park," Booth said, "It's already later than you're supposed to be up, and you wouldn't want Santa to skip over us because you're awake, now would you?"

"No way!" Parker answered, shaking his head furiously before he scampered up the hall to the guest bedroom.

"Get changed and brush your teeth, and then I'll come tuck you in!" he called. A muffled, 'I will' reached their ears through the door, and then he turned back to her. "I'm really glad you had a good time tonight, Bones," he told her sincerely.

"Thanks. I... I usually don't even like Christmas... but this... well it brought back a lot of memories from when I used to love it. That meant a lot," she added more softly.

"I know it did," he answered, and then glanced upwards and, grabbing her arm, pulled her a few feet to the side.

"Wha-?"

"Mistletoe," he explained, pointing upwards and raising his eyebrows. Then, without giving her a chance to object, he pressed his lips firmly to hers, and she responded warmly, pressing herself up against him.

"Eww..." Parker's voice interrupted them, and he pulled away from her and glanced embarrassedly at his son.

He pointed upwards as way of explanation, and Parker's eyes spotted the mistletoe. "Cindy had some of that at school," he said, wrinkling his nose. "She was chasing all the guys around trying to kiss them under it. She said that you _have_ to kiss under mistletoe."

Booth laughed, "That's right, kiddo. It has magical properties. Now let's get you all tucked in. And let's not go for earlier than last year, okay? Bones and I need our sleep."

"I won't," Parker promised, but he was clearly disappointed. "Goodnight, Bones!" he added, his mood returning quickly to excited before he headed back up the hall with his father behind him.

With Parker all taken care of, although he probably wouldn't fall asleep for a little while, not with Christmas the following morning on his mind, he headed back to the main room and found Bones already busy arranging gifts under the tree. He knelt down next to her and helped get the rest of them out of the large bags they'd been tucked inside of, shaking all the ones with his name on them that were from her.

"Jeez, Bones, how many did you get me?" he asked as he pulled out what must have been at least the sixth one.

"Does it matter?" she asked, "And I see you got me quite a few, too."

Trust her to pick up on that instead of answering. He shook his head and pulled the smaller bag closer to him and started stuffing their stockings with them. He tucked a large candy cane into Parker's so it hung out over the edge, and then collected together the empty bags and put them off to the side to be used to put the wrapping paper into the following morning.

"Come on," he said, grabbing her arm and helping her to her feet. "Let's go get some sleep."

She nodded, yawning suddenly as if to emphasize the point, and they made their way into the bedroom and changed quickly into more suitable sleeping clothes.

He pulled her close to him under the covers, and she snuggled her head against his shoulder, shifting her position to get more comfortable beside him.

She fell asleep quickly, and he felt his own lids getting heavy as well. Very soon, he drifted off, his arms wrapped securely around the woman he loved.

* * *

**Want to give me a gift in exchange for this wonderfully fluffy chapter? Feedback would be lovely, and it doesn't even have to be wrapped or anything! **

**Oh, and if you would like another holiday BB tale to read, I will now shamelessly advertise my story Footsteps in the Snow, because I think it should get some holiday attention since I wrote it in the spring/summer and it is based all around Christmas. **

**That said, I again wish you all a happy and safe holiday season!!**

**(PS- I don't promise there will be a Christmas morning chapter tomorrow, but you can expect one sometime soon.)  
**


	20. Chapter 20

**Yeah, Christmas is over. You can all hate me for being a slow updater. But pretend it's still the holiday season for a while longer, and I hope that you will all enjoy this.**

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When her eyes fluttered open, she at first registered that she was cold, and then immediately recalled what day it was. For a split second, she flashed upon a memory of years ago, staring out into a dark morning from her bedroom window and wondering why her parents car wasn't in the driveway, why they hadn't come home. It had been the last thing her teenage mind had been holding on to... that they'd be home for Christmas. That they _had_ to be, just because of that reason. But they weren't, and she hadn't been able to handle that.

A warm body stirring next to her pulled her mind back to the present, and the realization that it was Christmas morning took on a different meaning. She'd be spending it _with_ someone, with _two_ people, actually, for the first time since that year. She'd celebrated Christmas with her father in prison two years ago, yes, but that hadn't been quite the same as this. That wasn't waking up to go and sit in front of a sparkling tree surrounded in presents. That had been simply getting together later in the day. This... this was what Christmas had been to her all that time ago, and with that single thought she pushed herself upright and glanced down at Booth, who was only partially awake.

Excitement coursed through her irrationally, and she realized she was actually eager to get up, even though it was no doubt early. It didn't make sense, but suddenly she didn't care.

"Merry Christmas," she whispered to him, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips. His eyes focused slowly on her, and he frowned in a half-awake-confusion way before he groaned and rolled over to push himself into a sitting position beside her.

"Merry Christmas to you, too," he said, his voice giving away traces of surprise. Then his frown deepened again as he turned towards the bedside table. "...What time is it, anyways?"

She turned to look as well, and saw that it was nearly six-thirty. That was when the both noticed the other person in the room. Parker stood at the base of the bed watching them, and it suddenly was very obvious to her why she'd been so cold upon waking up. The small boy had been attempting to wake them up and the comforter had slid off and was no longer covering either of them, just the sheets. She shivered and pulled it towards her.

"Good morning, Parker," she said through a yawn.

"I've been waiting _ages_," he said, his eyes lighting up hopefully, "Can we _please_ open presents now?"

She turned to look at Booth, who chuckled and stretched. "I don't see why not."

Parker punched the air and bolted from the room; clearly he intended for them to follow.

"Let's go, Bones," Booth said, sounding much more awake now, and with a trace of excitement in his voice as well. He climbed from the bed and pulled on a t-shirt. She slid a bathrobe over her pajamas and followed him out into the living room, which admittedly looked actually magical with the lights twinkling all around and the tall tree standing out and glowing especially bright.

"So how do we get started?" she asked, glancing at him for help as she slowly sank onto the couch and glanced from the tree to the small child that was digging through presents and shaking ones with his name on them. She recognized one of the boxes she'd wrapped herself sitting just to his right, and felt the corner of her lips tilt upwards.

"I'll hand out the gifts, if that's fine with you?" he asked, kneeling down to sit next to the tree. Parker scampered over to jump on the couch next to her, his eyes bright with excitement.

"Go ahead," she said, motioning for him to get started, smiling as he dug through and found one of her gifts to him. He shook it slightly, and she made a sound of disapproval. He just chuckled and then pulled out a small box and passed it to her.

"Me first?" she asked in surprise.

"Yeah, Bones," he answered with a lopsided grin. "Open it up."

She eyed the gift, weighing it in her hands. It was light, and she frowned curiously as she tore away the paper and lifted the box free. She laughed when she pulled out what was inside. "A gift card, Booth?"

"Check out where its to."

She looked back down, and then raised her eyebrows and chuckled. "Wong Fu's." It was clearly some sort of attempt to let her pay while still being the one to pay himself, but she accepted it. "Thanks, Booth."

"Don't mention it. Here, bud," he said, passing him one of the gifts that she didn't recognize. She'd seen quite a few of them and helped with the wrapping, but there were still some that he'd picked up on his own while shopping for her that she didn't know about.

The child wasted no time in shredding the paper. "Awesome!" he shouted. It was a remote control helicopter, she saw as she read the side of the package.

"Who was that from?" Booth asked, sounding curious.

Parker dug through the wrapping paper and identified a scrap that had the tag attached. "Santa," he proclaimed, eyes shining. "And I didn't even ask for one of these!"

"Hey, I guess sometimes he just knows, bub. So I guess that means it's my turn now..." his eyes gained a mischievous glint as he looked at her and then began searching. She bit her lip, suddenly feeling self-conscious as she remembered the previous night and how surprised everyone had been about the very personal gift she'd given Angela. She hoped that everything she'd gotten for Booth was acceptable.

He'd selected an average-sized package, and she couldn't remember what was in it. She settled for watching nervously as he ripped away the wrappings and pulled out the white box inside. When he opened it a smile spread across his face, and she immediately felt relief before she leaned forward to see exactly which of her gifts it was that he was holding.

"Thanks, Bones!" he said, pulling out and holding up the jacket. It was a practical gift, but at least he seemed pleased by it. "I needed a new one," he said, still grinning.

Once it was set aside, he turned his attention back to finding another gift for her.

"This one looks good..." he passed her a larger box this time, and she wasted no time in unwrapping it.

Inside she found a new pair of pajama pants, decorated with images of mistletoe and Christmas ornaments. She laughed as she held them up. Angela would love them, she was sure.

"You needed something festive," Booth said by way of explanation, and she grinned back, nodding as she refolded them and placed them back in the box. She set it aside and leaned forward, pointing out a rectangular box wrapped in blue paper.

"That one's for Parker," she said simply. Booth raised an eyebrow, clearly not having expected that she would have bought gifts for his son, but he picked up the box and passed it to Parker, eyes sparkling with interest. His gaze locked on her as Parker eagerly tore at the paper, and he nodded towards the tree while the boy was distracted, mouthing, 'how many more?' at her.

She gave a mysterious smile and mimed zipping her lips and tossing the key over her shoulder, something she'd learned from him. He chuckled, but they didn't get a chance to continue their silent conversation, because Parker was apparently exploding with excitement. The whole couch bounced up and down, and she laughed out loud as she grabbed the boxes sitting in between her and the child in order to keep them from tumbling to the floor like they appeared to be close to doing at the moment.

"Dad, dad! I got a _chemistry set!" _he practically shouted.

"That's great, bub. What do you say now?"

He immediately spun around to face her, face lit up and eyes sparkling with excitement. He didn't appear to want to let go off the gift he'd just opened.

"Thanks so much, Bones!"

She smiled good-naturedly at him, "Merry Christmas, Parker," she responded easily. It had never occurred to her how easy things like this might be. Just relaxing with Booth and his son. It had gotten easier each time, but it still amazed her at the ease of conversing with the child, and the joy she got from turning to see Booth's eyes glowing with pride after every instance. At first she'd thought it was for his son, who was clearly bright and who Booth had every right to be proud of, but after a time she'd come to realize that it was meant for the both of them.

Right now, though, watching Booth pick through presents, making over-exaggerated comments about how many gifts she'd gotten him... she couldn't help but remember the years of her life before her parents had gone missing. The way that her dad used to hand out the gifts, and tease them, and how her mother used to make them hot chocolate and let them eat candy for breakfast. She had to wonder, now that she was an adult and spending a Christmas with a small child, if this was what it had felt like to be them on those early mornings. Had they felt this sense of overwhelming excitement, which seemed to just spill from the young and contagiously make its way into everyone else? Had they been as eager to watch their children's faces as they opened the gifts they'd bought as she was to see Parker's reaction to the presents she had gotten him?

Her thoughts were cut off as Booth called her name and shook a sparkly green box with an eyebrow raised before he turned his full attention to it and undid the bow. This was one she recognized, and she bit her lip as she watched, not sure how he would react. She hadn't spent any money on it, and gifts like this always concerned her, the same way she'd been worried about what Angela would think about what she'd gotten for the Secret Santa exchange. Sentimental gifts were always that way, it seemed.

But her worries, even though they hadn't been too extreme, were immediately demolished as his face lit up brighter than it had been all morning.

"Are you _serious?" _he managed to get out after opening and closing his mouth several times with nothing coming out. He held up the stack of papers, bound together carefully, and read the title out loud. _"Bloody Bones_..." he shook his head, then looked at her suspiciously. "Are you _really_ going to let me read this before it gets published, Bones?"

She tilted her head to the side slightly, confused, "I gave it to you as a gift... so, yes, I would say that it makes sense that you should read it. If you want to, of course. You could always wait until it's released, if you'd prefer to do that..."

He laughed and raised a hand to stop her before she could go on. "I'm just... thank you, Temperance. I mean it."

She could tell, then, that she'd done the right thing. Trusting him to read the manuscript... it wasn't something she did lightly. She'd always refused to let him before, and she herself wasn't even sure why that was. Maybe it was because it would have felt too intimate, handing him the book herself.

He'd been her partner, then, after all. Giving it to him would have meant expecting comments in response. By letting him get himself a copy, if he so desired, it took him off the hook, and she didn't have to worry about him not liking the way she'd written Andy or something like that. Because, if she was being honest with herself, she'd always been concerned that by getting too much of her inspiration for Kathy's partner from her own, he would be rubbed the wrong way. They hadn't always agreed, after all. They still didn't. And that had rubbed off sometimes in Kathy's interpretations of Andy's actions and his viewpoints on the case.

Booth had never commented on those particular scenes, or on any scenes, really, but he had read the books. And he'd told her he really enjoyed them. Hell, he'd memorized her reviews. That certainly said something, if not about his dedication to the books, then about his interest in pleasing her. That meant more, too, than she'd ever voiced out loud.

There was actually quite a bit that she'd never voiced out loud over the years. Having to buy gifts this year, even though she admitted that she had wanted to, hadn't been the easiest thing. She _needed_ him to know that she cared about him as much as, if not more than, he cared about her. And despite how much she hated the dominance by gift concept she'd explained to him years ago, she'd wanted to go along with it for once. Because this time, it didn't feel like an anthropology thing. It felt like one of his heart things.

And Christmas hadn't felt like that... since her parents had vanished.

Parker, having more gifts than either of them, was opening another when she finally zoned back into what was happening in the living room. She didn't miss the concerned look that Booth shot her, and she knew that he'd clearly seen her go out of focus. He'd probably ask about it later, but for now she decided not to worry. The boy was eagerly reading the features of the action figure he'd just unwrapped off the box, repeating at least three times about the 'action-blaster' it was equipped with. Booth passed her another present as the boy continued.

They progressed through the rest of the morning with little incident; Parker received various sports equipment and toys, along with a dinosaur model and a microscope from her; Booth opened new ties and socks decked with skeletons, kitchen equipment, and a digital camera that he'd immediately claimed she'd spent too much on; and she received new Christmas jewelry (she assumed Angela probably had a hand in that one), several DVDs she didn't recognize the names of but Booth had assured her she would like, and an iPod that he'd promised to teach her how to use.

There were only three gifts left under the tree, the largest of which was her final present to Parker, and had been held until last at her insistence. Now, though, Booth picked it up and glanced at her for approval before he slid it over to the child.

"Jeez, Bones, it's _heavy_. What on earth did you get?"

She didn't respond, instead watching Parker as he flipped the gift around and yanked at the overlapping paper, tearing it completely free as he gave a scream of excitement. "It's a Wii! Bones, thank you, thank you, thank you!" he jumped at her, almost knocking her off the couch, and she laughed as he gave her a quick hug before he launched himself back at the present and removed the remainder of the wrapping, his eyes wide as he started fighting with the tape that held the box closed.

"Hey, Park, let's get that all set up later; sound good? We've still got two more gifts here, and you could probably use some breakfast at this point. I know Bones could; her stomach's been growling for the past ten minutes."

Parker giggled at the comment, while she attempted to look indignant.

"Okay, I've still got one left..." he said, holding up her final gift to him. Unlike some of the others, this wasn't a practical gift. It was something she'd picked out specifically for him, and something she was certain he would like.

She wasn't disappointed.

"God," he gasped as he pulled out the framed photograph and realized what it was and who's autograph was on it. "Bones... you got me a _signed_ Luc Robitaille photo?"

She nodded, smiling somewhat shyly as she took in just how excited he was. "That's not it, either, Booth."

He looked at her in confusion for a moment, and the looked inside the torn paper before flipping the frame over and staring in shock at the back. "We're going to a Flyers game?" he didn't seem to be able to belief it, and she laughed slightly before answering.

"Yeah, we are. If you want to, I mean. I got two tickets, so you could go with one of your guy buddies, or your son, if he didn't have to be in school the next day..."

He stared at her for a moment, and she couldn't get a read on his expression. She felt the faintest twinge of worry begin to creep over her before he shook his head and then dispelled it entirely with his next words.

"No way, Bones. You're coming with me, whether you want to or not. You think I could possibly go without you?"

"So, you like it?"

"I'd like anything you wanted me to have, Bones, but, yeah, I love it."

She could read his expression suddenly, and she smiled wider, knowing that if Parker wasn't present, even though he was occupied with the Wii box at the moment, he would already have her in his arms and they'd be engaged in some very welcome kissing. As it was, though, she knew that would have to wait until later, when they were alone.

Giving her a look filled with meaning similar to her last line of thought, Booth passed her last gift over to her, and she smiled as she immediately realized it wasn't from him. The writing was scrawled untidily, but she recognized it as Parker's. He was suddenly bouncing up and down slightly, eyeing her with a nervous look of anticipation on his face, his attention no longer on his own gifts. She quickly tore away the wrapping.

The fact that he'd gotten her a gift at all was enough to make her choke up slightly, even though she would deny it if Booth asked. What it was, though, almost had tears springing to her eyes.

"It's us," Parker said matter-of-factly, leaning over against her as he touched a finger to the glass on the snow-globe. "See?" he added, pointing to each figure. The scene inside was of a small house surrounded by trees, and out front there were three people building a snow man. "That's dad, and me, and you, Bones."

She just nodded, not really trusting her voice. The boy probably wouldn't understand exactly what this gift meant, but she knew that Booth certainly would. Her eyes sought his out the second the thought registered, and she found him staring back with eyes soft and gentle, glowing with emotion.

"Thank you, Parker," she whispered, and found herself giving the boy a one-armed hug as she kept a careful hold on the globe with the other.

"Make it snow," he responded eagerly.

A soft smile once again tilted up the corners of her lips, and she tilted the globe upside-down and then up-righted it, watching the flakes tumble down on the clearly happy family.

"It's beautiful," she murmured softly.

"Can we build a snowman later?" Parker asked her.

"I'm not sure if the snow outside is quite adequate," she said apologetically, "It's not... it's not the sticky stuff," she phrased it differently than she'd been about to, memories of her own childhood flashing to the forefront of her memory once more.

The boy's lip pouted out slightly, and she quickly consoled him.

"But the forecast said we should expect some good snow tonight... with some Christmas luck, we can build one tomorrow."

When she looked up at Booth again, he had that look of pride in his eyes again. And suddenly she wanted to just stay like this forever, lost in this single moment, even though she knew it was totally irrational, not to mention impossible according to the basic laws of the universe. But that didn't mean she didn't want it any less. Why wouldn't she, when everything seemed so simple, when this was all she needed to be happy? How many years had she spent wondering if anyone even cared about her at all, would even be bothered if she simply ceased to exist? Now, though, she didn't even have to pause to let the thought set in that people did care about her. Loved her, even. Booth, Parker... she was spending Christmas with them. Her _family_.

Nothing meant more than that simple fact.

The tree barren of gifts, Booth carefully fit himself next to her on the couch, told Parker to go and get himself some juice and coffee cake from the kitchen, and then pressed his lips to hers, whispering warmly against her skin, "Merry Christmas, Bones."

* * *

**I will now shamelessly ask for reviews when I clearly don't deserve them. Seriously, though, I need the motivation. The really slow updates should be a clear sign of that. And I'm not just asking for the positive feedback; I'd enjoy a bit of criticism too. I've been doing a lot of reading of other people's fanfics recently, and I really want to improve my own writing. And so if anyone could offer suggestions on where I might make some changes and what I need to work on, I'd love it. **

**For anyone who wants actual plot and not just more fluff, I'll be working on that as well. They are in desperate need of a case, I think. **

**And Booth will need to work on figuring out how to ask his question, too. :)**

**Thanks, everyone, for sticking through this far with me. I hope you'll keep reading.  
**


	21. Chapter 21

**Oh look, an update! And... I don't think it took me a month this time, did it? Life's been crazy, so I wrote this in intervals. I didn't get a chance to read it through, so if there are any really prominent errors, do let me know, please. **

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* * *

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A light snow hit the ground around them, and he watched as she frowned harder, glancing up at the sky as though blaming it for trying to compromise the remains.

"Hey, can we get some better cover over the good doctor here?" he called to the group of cops that were gathered around closer to the road. One of them broke away from the others and popped his car trunk, digging around for a moment before emerging with a tarp that he carried down the slight incline to them.

"Here," he said, holding out one edge to Booth, who quickly accepted it, making quick work of attaching it to a tree branch. A make-shift tent, not very proper or neat looking, now covered the air over Bones' head, and she nodded in approval at him, allowing the faintest of smiles before she turned her attention back to the skeleton.

"Female, mid-thirties... Caucasian. Looks like there was a childhood break to the tibia... that could help with identification."

"Anything there in that bag?" he asked, nodding towards a torn cloth item next to the body. "Maybe a wallet or something?"

"I doubt it, Booth, given how thoroughly these officers seem to have disrupted the remains before our arrival. I'm sure they looked through it already." She didn't look up as she spoke, and her frown deepened as she leaned closer to sniff at the skull. He groaned and looked away, catching the irritable look on the cop's face who stood right next to her. Clearly, her assumptions hadn't been far off. The man shifted and then stalked back up the banking to rejoin the others.

"You really should be wearing a thicker coat," he said, breaking the silence as she continued to carefully clear away the dry leaves and other debris of the forest-edge which surrounded the victim. She didn't even offer him a glance this time, just a quick shake of her head.

"The only other jacket I have is too bulky for work like this; it would get in the way. This one is light and comfortable."

"But you're shaking like a leaf, Bones," he complained.

She tilted her head and picked up a leaf, passing it to him. "Doesn't look too bad to me," she muttered.

He rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean."

"Actually, not really. I'm trying to... you know, focus?"

He chuckled, but didn't interrupt again, despite the turn in the temperature as snow began to fall much more rapidly around them, soaking into his hair and gathering thickly on his broad shoulders.

He brushed at it, but ultimately gave up as it accumulated again almost instantly.

"You can go, you know," she said simply, leaning a little closer to the skull. "I don't need a babysitter."

How she'd sensed his growing discomfort without even being turned enough to see him from the corner of her eye he didn't know, but she wasn't wrong. Except, of course, in thinking that he was going to just take off.

"Oh, sure, Bones. I'll just head back home, warm up, get some hot chocolate... totally forget about the fact that you're out here alone in a blizzard."

She just nodded, probably not even listening. He rolled his eyes and shoved his hands deeper into his coat pockets, staying exactly where he was.

It didn't appear as if she'd be finished anytime soon, so he occupied himself with his thoughts, which, as of late, had not been very cheery. He was getting desperate, trying to figure out what to do. He ran his fingers over the velvet of the little box in his deep pocket, and scowled at nothing in particular.

There had been a faint trace of hope in him that he might be able to work up the courage sometime shortly after Christmas, but it was now well over a week into January and here he was, still as silent as ever. And maybe this was what she needed, just being a couple, living together... nothing else. But he couldn't shake away that wish for more, or that hope that things _could_ turn in his favor. She believed in love, after all, and she most certainly hadn't when he'd first met her. And she trusted him, too... as far as he could tell, she wasn't afraid of him taking off at any second. But then again, as well as he knew her, he couldn't claim to be a mind reader. An awful lot probably went on in that genius head of hers that he didn't know about.

And at some point, eventually, she might even decide she wanted kids. But he wouldn't push her for that one; when and if she was ready, though... he would be more than willing to take that path.

The whole problem was just working up the courage. Why was it that _that_ of all things, was such an issue around her? He was Seeley Booth; he'd never had a problem with courage in his life. He'd had to step up as a kid to protect his little brother, he'd become a star athlete in high school, he'd gone off to fight a goddamned war... and then he'd ended up here, in the FBI, still risking his life everyday. And he couldn't say a few words to the woman he loved.

It seemed like maybe this would always follow him around. Would there ever come a day when he could speak his mind completely with her, and not be concerned about how she might respond? Because ever since he'd realized he was in love with her, he'd been terrified of her finding out. And once he finally managed to tell her, and succeeded in gaining a relationship, he couldn't take the next step. Once again, the fear of losing her simply outweighed anything else.

How would he be expected to go on if he lost her? He couldn't, especially not if it was his fault that she had been frightened away in the first place. If he'd learned anything over the years, it was to be careful with her. She wanted to be the strong one, the one that never needed to be rescued, or comforted... but still, you had to be careful. He would never, _never_ say she was damaged... just _hurt_. She'd probably faced more suffering than he had, even through all his rough patches. Now, where she was, she deserved to be given every respect and ounce of care he possibly could provide. Without annoying her.

At long last, in what must have been another ten minutes or so, she was standing up, and the moment she was free of the little tent covering her dark hair started to collect thick, white flakes. Her eyes were that clear blue color they got whenever she was thinking about a lot, but not _worrying_ about anything. She was simply working over the details she'd been able to get so far on this case in her head, at a rate that he never would have been able to follow.

Signaling over his shoulder to call down the team of FBI agents that had been waiting by the roadside in their van, he smiled warmly at her. "Welcome back to the world of the living, Bones," he teased.

She scowled. "I don't get it."

"You just get, you know... caught up in what you're doing. C'mon, let's go grab a bite to eat at the Founding Fathers; Angela called me just a minute ago saying the team was heading there when they got out. We'll meet up with them, eat some food, have some nice non-murder-related conversation, and head back to the apartment for some shut-eye." Her eyes went up to the sky in surprise, and he chuckled. "Yeah, the afternoon came and went, Bones. It's like..." he pulled back his coat sleeve and squinted at his watch, "Five o'clock already."

"That's still fairly early," she pointed out, but he shrugged the comment off.

"Yeah, but we aren't going back to the lab. _They_," he pointed to the FBI crew that had begun to congregate around the body, "Are under orders to deliver it safe and sound to the Jeffersonian." She opened her mouth, but he raised a finger and pressed it to her lips, silencing her. "They'll also get soil samples and particulates. Relax."

She smiled slightly at that, but pushed his finger away from her mouth and spun on her heel, grabbing his hand as she did so and pulling him up the slope with her.

"We'll stop back at the apartment before we head to the Founding Fathers," she informed him in her matter-of-fact way. "We both need to change. And besides..." a slightly seductive smile tilted up one side of her mouth, "The team probably won't be there for another twenty minutes or so..."

They reached the SUV, and he pulled her back around to kiss her soundly as the snowflakes fell around them in a white blur, the cold not seeming to matter anymore.

"We can be a little late," he suggested, his voice gravelly.

She grabbed the keys before he knew what she was doing, offering a simple explanation. "I drive faster than you."

Well, he couldn't argue with that.

* * *

"So then, Nigel is just standing there, holding one end of this ax that's stuck in the floor, and Cam just _looks_ at him like she has no idea what to think... while Hodgins is busy sneaking out behind her!"

The table erupted in laughter, and Booth punched the young doctor lightly on the arm. He had just received his doctorate a few weeks ago, and become a full time employee of the Jeffersonian. It seemed, though, that the new title hadn't had any effect on his tendency to get in trouble with Hodgins.

"Might I ask why, exactly, Hodgins wasn't the one swinging the ax in the first place? I thought he would have been the one eagerly hacking away at the melons." The question came curiously from the late arrival, Sweets, who Angela had insisted on inviting along since he was practically family with the team anyways.

Hodgins waved off Cam when she started to answer, and addressed the table himself. "Well, you see, I'd actually already gotten in a few good swings. The first few melons should show that. And after that watermelon incident last year... when I saw Cam coming around the corner..."

"You passed off the punishment to the other guy!" Booth guessed, grinning. "Real smooth, Hodgins, real smooth."

Hodgins shrugged, still smiling like an idiot. "It's not like I thought I'd get away with it, either. Just... couldn't resist, you know?"

"I really should stop listening to you," Nigel offered lightly from his end of the table.

"And I should really start keeping a better eye on him," added Angela, kissing her husband on the cheek. "One of these days you're going to get fired, you know."

"I _really_ shouldn't say this," Cam started off cautiously, "But I can honestly tell you all that I don't think I'd ever be able to fire any one of you."

Hodgins immediately laughed, and then raised a hand for a high five with Nigel, "Oh, I told you so! Ha!"

Bones was looking at them both quizzically, so Booth cut in to offer his take on the situation. "I'm assuming Nigel was afraid of being fired because of all those rather... unfortunate... disasters which seem to occur around him and our bug guy here."

"Just a bit," the young man conceded, and they all chuckled again at his honesty.

"I hate to say it, but I think this might destroy some of the power I've been holding over your heads," Cam muttered, but there was humor flashing in her eyes. "If anyone ever got fired, it would probably be me, from somewhere high over my head. You're all lucky that we have a high success rate at that lab, because otherwise who knows who you'd have breathing down your necks, especially if you thought _I_ was bad."

"Well, at least I wouldn't be too bothered," Booth commented with a lopsided grin. "I work for the government of the United States of America... not a museum."

"Technically, doesn't that mean that the rest of us all stand greater chances of being fired?" Nigel rationalized, "Seeing as... you know, we work for both the Jeffersonian and the FBI?"

"Lucky for you, the FBI likes solving murders more than dealing with bothersome things like damaged property from experimentation."

"And, apparently, they don't care much about relationships if that doesn't effect solve rate," Sweets added in, raising his eyebrows at the two of them.

Booth grinned. "Got that right. Bones and me," he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze, "We're the best crime-solving team they could ever get. You apparently agree, otherwise I'm sure you would have put in some sort of... request to break up our partnership."

The psychologist tipped his head to the side, "Actually, I wasn't given much leeway on the matter. They said it was up to me, but it all came down to the higher-ups. Besides, Cullen doesn't really take my opinion into account when it comes to the two of you anymore. Apparently he has an issue with my objectiveness while I'm 'tailing you around like a puppy' for my book."

Booth shook with laughter, pulling Bones up against him more before addressing that latest comment. "And don't we know it. But hey," he added seriously, "Even I gotta say you make a good asset to the team. Bones here might not believe much in your psycho-mumble-jumbo, and to be honest neither do I... and I doubt Hodgins takes much from it either, or Nigel..."

"We get the point," Sweets muttered.

Booth nodded quickly, "Yeah, but it all boils down to getting the job done. And somehow you do it. Plus, you can actually be a pretty cool guy," he tossed on the end, trying to make his tone sound light and surprised by that fact, but he knew it came out like a compliment. Sweets beamed, but quickly covered it by reaching forward to pick up his sandwich and take another bite.

"Did you notice we _always_ end up talking about work?" Angela said, breaking the silence that had arisen when they'd all suddenly become interested in their food again. She herself was pretty immersed in her food, with a large chocolate shake and a big plate of French fries that Booth suspected were a side-effect of her expectancy. "Come on, let's talk about something a bit more fun. What's everyone doing this weekend? Hodgins and I are heading to visit my father in Texas."

Hodgins grimaced slightly, clearly concerned about the coming reunion with the slightly frightening man. Booth couldn't really blame him, even though he had a pretty challenging father-in-law to deal with himself. Who wasn't technically a father-in-law given that he was _still _fighting with how to convince her to marry him... but the point still applied.

"I'm attending a conference on bone grafting with some of my college friends," Nigel offered. It sounded like a very poor way to spend a weekend, but the kid seemed just as enthusiastic about skeletons as Bones did, so he'd probably have a great time.

"Daisy and I are probably just going to... you know... stay in."

Booth cracked a smile at that. Those two still hadn't decided to tie the knot, but clearly it had to be coming soon. And Sweets had that nervous look to him whenever he talked about his girlfriend... one that Booth knew he probably reflected pretty well. It was a look that said he was nervous at the same time as being ecstatic. How to move forward, in the psychologist's case, was going to be a hell of a lot easier than it would be for him, though.

Everyone's eyes had gravitated to either Cam or him and Bones, but Cam was the one that spoke up first.

"I have a date," she said, trying to sound professional but not fully avoiding the excited flash in her eyes.

"First, or have you been hiding this from us?" Ange questioned, the gossip clearly having piqued her interest.

"Second," Cam corrected with a nod of her head, "And it seems to be going fairly well. Nothing... drastic. Just some... company."

They all smiled knowingly, and then the attention was fully on him. As if they all knew he'd be the one speaking up for the pair of them.

Bones, though, jumped in before he could. "I, for one, would like to spend my weekend working on this latest case. It's assumable that we won't solve it by tomorrow, so working into Saturday would be the most efficient way to get the most information as fast as possible."

Ange rolled her eyes immediately, and then locked her eyes seriously on Booth, her gaze piercing him harshly, "You are _not _letting her work."

He allowed a smile, and nudged the woman next to him playfully, "Nope, we're not working." She gave him an incredulous look of irritation, but he went onwards, ignoring it. "I've actually got plans for how we're going to spend our time off."

"We do?"

"No, I do," he corrected, giving her an antagonistic grin. "You will have to wait and see."

She crossed her arms in frustration, but didn't complain verbally, simply offering a roll of her eyes before she leaned forward and snatched several French fries from his plate, using his ketchup as well.

Sweets was watching with fascination lighting up his face, and Booth kicked him under the table.

"Ow!" yelped Nigel.

"Oops, sorry about that, kid." He redirected and kicked again.

"Hey!" Sweets complained, yanking his leg away and reaching a hand down to rub his shin.

Booth offered him a shrug in response, and then pulled the conversation back to a popular topic in the lab; the naming of Angela and Hodgins' baby.

"So far we've ruled out our own names," Ange said, her smile huge and her hand rested across her abdomen, Hodgins' placed on top of it lightly. "We don't want any Jack Hodgins' II running around. We want something unique."

"You mean, you want unique," Hodgins corrected quickly, "I want simple. There is no way we're naming our child Picasso or something."

"That was a last name, not a first name. It would be Pablo, if you're aiming for that particular artist."

Hodgins made a face. "No way. What about..." he eyed the collection of people around the table, and they all tried to look elsewhere and draw as little attention as possible. "How about _Brennan_?" he teased. "You know, it _is_ a boy's name."

Bones looked slightly alarmed at the prospect, but the conversation was light rather than serious, so Booth wasn't overly concerned.

"When are you going to find out if it's a boy or a girl?" Sweets asked curiously.

"We aren't," was the answer that Angela instantly supplied. "Surprise is what makes it so much more enjoyable. I think we'll have narrowed it down to one name for each possibility, though, by the time junior joins us."

"But you have a... feeling, about which it might be?" the shrink guessed.

"I'm leaning towards boy, but I could be wrong," she said with a slight smile that suggested otherwise. Angela was not the unsure type. If she thought it was a boy, through motherly instinct or whatever it was... there was a good chance her first sense was completely correct. He remembered Rebecca telling him at some point, before they'd found out for sure, that she'd thought Parker was a boy.

The rest of the evening passed smoothly, and it was late when they finally started to gather their coats and get ready to head their separate ways for the night. As Booth helped Hodgins calculate the bill, since no one had been willing to let someone else take the entire weight of their meals for themselves (even though Hodgins had offered), he overheard Angela pulling Brennan aside for a quiet conversation.

He knew he should have moved away, but how on earth could he do that once he heard what Angela wanted to talk about?

"Sweetie, I was reading your face all night, is something wrong?"

"I'm fine," she said, but she'd spoken too quickly, and he knew she was lying. Angela was just as perceptive as he was, of course.

"Bull. Come on, Bren, I'm your best friend." She lowered her voice, "Is this about... you know, me being pregnant? Because I'm still here. I might be a bit busier than usual pretty soon, but that does not mean you're losing me. Or that you're getting away from me that easily. Junior's gunna need a God-mother, now isn't he?"

"I... Ange, are you serious?"

"Of course I am. You think I'd let anyone else take that role?" she snorted in disbelief.

"You know that I'm not... I'm not good with children, Ange, and I don't know if I..."

"After everything I hear about you and Parker, and everything I've seen with you and children... please tell me you don't expect me to still believe that. Please tell me _you_ don't still believe that."

He risked a glance to the side, and saw Bones biting her lip and directing her eyes at the floor for a fleeting second before they locked back on Angela's again, worry lighting up in their blue depths. He didn't need to be right in front of her, or even close, to recognize it anymore. To recognize anything on her face, to be honest. But he directed his eyes away, knowing that she'd feel his stare if he kept them there to long.

Hodgins had finished calculating and the rest of the group was laying down bills. He tossed his and Bones' money down, not even able to feel the thrill of getting away with paying for her that he usually got... like a child successfully outwitting a parent... because he was too focused on what was being said behind him.

They were getting quieter, and he edged a few inches over, hoping he wasn't being ridiculously obvious. And that he wouldn't get his ass kicked for this later if he was.

There was a slight awe to Angela's voice now, though, and he couldn't understand why until her words sunk in. And they certainly sunk in fast.

"You've thought about it." There was no response from Bones, which meant no admission... but also no denial. And that was as good as a confession for him. For Angela, too. "Brennan, how long have you been considering this for?" There was a very short pause, in which Bones started to say something, followed by a quick cut off by Angela. "Don't you dare try to lie to me; I read you better than anyone. Except maybe your boyfriend, but _seriously_..."

"Shh..." Brennan hissed, and from the corner of his eye he saw a flurry of motion, and had to tip his head to see. He faked scratching the other side of his head to compensate, and then bent to swipe a crumb off the seat he'd been sitting at, hoping to appear as non-eavesdropping as possible.

Bones had seized Angela's elbow and dragged her away. In a second, they were around by the door, the cool air from outside rushing in as an older man left and making both their hair billow. Neither shivered or moved away as they continued their conversation, all of their words now beyond Booth's reach.

He sighed, and then made small talk with the lingering group of men that still remained next to the table. The place was mostly quiet now; only a young couple remained in a booth across the room, and they didn't seem too bothered by anything around them. They were far too busy making out.

Booth wondered if he'd ever get out of here, but at the same time he wanted to give Angela and Bones as much time to talk as they needed. The last thing he wanted to do was cut them off, because that would no doubt make her self-conscious and quiet for the rest of the night. And if Angela got all the details, he'd stand a better chance of getting them out of her later. If they really were talking about what he thought they were... well, she'd no doubt be eager to help him.

Suddenly, all the things he'd been considering lately, that he'd been struggling so helplessly with, didn't seem so out of reach after all.

* * *

***Hopeful expression* I'm eager to write the next chapter... but motivation always helps... so, if you hit that lovely button I will love you. And I will try to respond to reviews from now on, because I've been horribly lax with that and I feel bad for it. **

**Thanks for reading! :)**

**Oh, and a happy Superbowl to all of you. Despite the fact that I watch only the commercials and don't care about sports XD  
**


	22. Chapter 22

Booth had fallen asleep ages ago, and the apartment was silent beside the slow and even sound of his breath going in and out. He had one arm draped around her, and the warmth was comfortable. But she still couldn't get to sleep.

Overhead, the neighbors were still awake, having some sort of late-night party. There were at least five people, from the different voices she'd been able to decipher, and they were laughing and talking. Every now and then she heard the sound of cabinets closing or glasses clinking against either each other or the table they were probably being set on. She wished they'd just go to sleep already.

For what must have been the tenth time or so, she closed her eyes and ran her hands over them in slow circles, moving her fingers to massage her temples. A headache had started to develop earlier, and although it had gone away once she and Booth had gotten back to the apartment, it had returned in full fervor once he'd drifted off after she'd pretended to be asleep.

It would be worse, though, if he was awake too. Because then he'd realize something was wrong, and she'd have to talk about it. And the last thing she wanted to do was discuss it more, especially when she was already concerned enough about just how much he'd overheard. Him standing that close and not catching any of the words she and Angela had exchanged seemed highly unlikely, even though he hadn't brought it up yet.

And if Angela had been persistent, Booth would only be worse. Not to mention how his reaction would probably enter a whole different scale than the one Angela's would have been measured on.

_"Since when?" her friend demanded, the cold air rushing past both of them and billowing out their hair. _

_ She sighed and looked away, fidgeting before finally settling for crossing her arms over her chest in a somewhat defensive stance. "I started thinking about it shortly before... everything that happened."_

_ Angela winced slightly, but hurried onwards nonetheless. "And did it... go away? After..?"_

_ She nodded, eyes flicking to the group of men still standing around the table they'd been seated at. Booth was talking easily with them, and she found that she relaxed slightly upon seeing that. "It was certainly not something I was actively thinking about anymore."_

_ "And with me and Hodgins, and finding out I was pregnant... it brought it back on?"_

_ "A bit," she admitted._

_ "Bren, what were you going to do, before? I mean... you weren't dating at that point, and-"_

_ "I was considering the possibility of asking Booth to... donate. You know, to the sperm bank."_

_ Angela's mouth quirked up into a little half-smile at that. "Oh, I'm sure he'd have_ loved _the idea, Bren. And you would have told him not be involved, as well?"_

_ She shifted again, feeling uncomfortable as she picked up on the obvious sarcasm. Obviously things had changed. The way she'd felt back then was far different from how she did now. A quick nod to confirm Angela's query was all she gave, and she didn't look up to see the reaction._

_ "Hey, relax, Bren." Glancing up, she saw that Ange was smiling softly at her. "I'm not judging, just getting the facts. Besides, no matter what you tell yourself, I totally see through that whole plan." She frowned, and Angela grinned wider and went on, "You were going to convince Booth... and no doubt he'd eventually give in because we both know that he's powerless against you... and when you were all bloated and hormonal and going crazy with morning sickness, he'd be the one right there helping you every step of the way. Then, you'd have the kid, and he'd be with you in the hospital. He'd sit by your bed every single minute, and he'd hold your little miracle baby. Perfect plan to get together with him and make a nice adorable little family, if I do say so myself. Except for the skipping the sex part. That doesn't make any sense. The rest is pretty good, though."_

_ She stared at her best friend in shock. To be honest, she'd never actually thought of it that way. But still... some part of her subconscious agreed with everything Angela was saying. It all _would_ have played out like that, if the circumstances had provided the opportunity. Because Booth would never let her take care of a kid all alone, especially not when it was his kid, too. _

_ Somehow, that made her feel bad for planning to use him in such a way, but at the same time she couldn't seem to regret it._

_ "So, when are you going to tell Booth that you want to have his babies?" Ange was suddenly asking, pulling her instantly out of her thoughts._

_ She stumbled for words, finally settling upon, "Angela, if you tell him any of this..." she didn't even know what to threaten, but Angela seemed to get the message, and backed off a little bit._

_ "Sweetie, my lips are sealed. It was just a question. What I do really want to know, though, is if you plan on having kids before, or after you decide to get married."_

_ "I- Ange... you know that I don't..."_

_ "Again? Really, Bren, you're starting to make me think I know you better than you know yourself. Antiquated ritual isn't still your excuse, now, is it? I get the whole 'no church' thing, and I respect it. Not to mention an outdoor wedding in the spring would be... well, amazing... but that's beside the point. Booth is your soul mate. You want to have his children, right?"_

_ "I-"_

_ "And you want to spend the rest of your life with him?"_

_ "Ange, a person can't know-"_

_ "And you love him, don't you?"_

_ That last one caught her off guard, and she stammered incoherently for a moment. "Yeah, Ange," she murmured at last. "Yeah, I do."_

_ Angela beamed. "Excellent. So, love is irrational, now isn't it?" It wasn't like she had any other option but to nod resignedly. "Everything about it isn't logical. It isn't meant to be. So don't make it rational. Don't try to understand. What does your heart tell you, when I ask you about how you would feel being married to Booth? Not your brain, _just_ your heart," she added quickly on the end._

_ She bit her lip, not sure if she could even honestly answer that question. She felt a lot of things, but not one of them was something she understood even slightly._

_ "That man wants to propose to you," Angela said seriously, motioning behind her to where Booth still had his back turned. Everyone looked like they were getting ready to leave, and she wondered suddenly if they were holding them up with their obviously private conversation. By now, Booth must have noticed. She suddenly was desperately hoping he hadn't overheard, and that he wouldn't question her about what she'd been discussing with her friend once they were alone. Because by now there was no way he wasn't curious._

_ And yet, the whole way home he seemed relaxed. Totally at ease. They made light conversation, and when they got home they made love. _

And now, here she was. Left to contemplate on a very long and exhausting day. All of her worries having nothing to do with all the work she'd done, or the new case they got, but rather revolving around the man who was now snoring gently next to her.

* * *

"Any news?" she asked without looking up, knowing that the person that had just come up behind her was him without having to hear his voice or see him or even smell his very distinctive cologne. And a moment later he was leaning over the table next to her.

"Not much, Bones. Anything on your end?"

She turned to look at him, shaking her head in frustration. "The tibia break didn't help us much without anything else to work with, and her dentals didn't come up with anything. Angela has the skull now; I had Nigel apply tissue markers, and so she'll have a workable model to try and get an ID off of at some point. Probably within the hour, since she's been gone for a while. Although I know she and Hodgins were planning on going to lunch... they may have already left..."

"Bones, it's four in the afternoon."

Slightly alarmed, she twisted her wrist around to look at her watch, not fully able to believe that so much time had passed until the little hands spelled it out right in front of her. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, and she brushed a few stray hairs out of her face.

"I missed lunch with you," she said. It wasn't a question.

He smiled softly. "Yeah, but it's okay. I know you were distracted. Did you at least eat something, though?"

She nodded distractedly, "A granola bar I had left over from that long stretch in Limbo last week..." But she wasn't paying much attention to him, or the skeleton, anymore. She was more amazed that he'd actually been okay with her missing their lunch. They'd agreed to meet at the diner rather than him picking her up as he usually did, because they both had to be back at their respective buildings to continue working on the case. She had wanted to get as much done as possible. But the fact that he hadn't called, or come to check on her, when she hadn't arrived was something she hadn't expected.

"Did you call?" she asked without thinking, cutting off whatever he'd been saying. Something about the case, but she hadn't caught a word of it. Her hand was already pulling her cell from her pocket, checking to see if she had a missed call.

But Booth was shaking his head before she could even flip it open. "Nah, I figured you wouldn't want to be distracted. And hey, it gives me an excuse to kidnap you out of here early for supper, doesn't it?"

She frowned, still thinking, but then nodded and turned away, brushing again at the strands of hair that kept falling in her eyes before she finally gathered them up and redid her ponytail. The elastic snapped loudly back into place as she released it, and then she shooed him away from the table and attempted to focus. Which was admittedly very challenging.

It shouldn't matter, at all, that he hadn't checked up on her. She should be thrilled, to be honest. It meant he was letting her be more independent. He wasn't being a protective and over-controlling male. Wasn't this exactly what she wanted? Then why, _why_ did it bother her so much? Had she gotten so used to his being there, his caring about where she was every single second of every day, that it actually _hurt_ to find out that he hadn't bothered for once?

The very thought made her flare up in irritation with herself. When had she become so reliant? She loved Booth, yes, and she was more than willing to admit it... but that did _not_ mean she was some typical damsel in distress. She didn't rely on him to survive. She just... really enjoyed the fact that he loved her back. And _wanted_ it to stay that way.

So irrational.

But she'd stopped caring about that ages ago. Which was one thing she wasn't planning on changing. Happiness wasn't logical, as Angela would have said. Love couldn't be calculated or put in a test tube, as Booth would tell her.

And Angela had been right, last night. With everything she'd said.

Everything seemed very real, all of a sudden. Before, it had been just her and Booth. They were together, they were in love... they were enjoying life and laughing over stupid things. She felt lighter and more at ease than she had in ages. But the future still had a way of creeping up.

Did she seriously, _truly_, think that life would stay exactly like this forever? No, she'd never fully believed it. In her heart, in her _head_, she'd known that things would change. She'd just told herself that it would be okay, because Booth was a constant. He wouldn't change. He still wouldn't, of course, but everything else could.

Would it be so terrible, so unrealistic, to imagine herself married? It hadn't been something she'd wanted before, especially considering how many marriages failed, how many tragedies and how much pain she'd seen on the very subject between her own experiences in foster care and the years she'd spent investigating murders. The first suspect was always the spouse; that was how it worked.

At the same time, it was a connection, one that she'd observed in many different forms throughout the world. There were rituals of marriage that she'd seen first hand in countless foreign nations, more different ceremonies than she could probably recount.

It had always been the failure, though, which had pushed her away from the idea. What kind of scar would that leave, to choose someone and have them then consciously decide to sever that tie with you? It was one thing to be left alone by your family, or to be pushed from home to home... but it was another to have your own life choice crash down upon you.

And that had been the one thing that Temperance Brennan had always been certain of. If she ever chose to let someone get that close, and she went through with a wedding... someday they would leave her. Maybe she'd even leave them. But it would fail, because monogamy failed. For _her_, it was a definite. She'd never known otherwise.

Then there was Booth.

She'd told him already, though, she reminded herself, that she didn't want marriage. He'd even respected that decision. What would he think if she just threw this decision at him, especially when she'd only just begun to consider it herself? _He'd be thrilled_, Angela's voice prompted inside her head. She smiled slightly at that. Maybe he would, but he'd also want to make sure she was sure, and she wasn't. Not yet.

Time was what she needed, as much as she hated that phrase. After everything she'd been forced to go through in her life, she'd heard it enough to deserve to hate it with a passion. But that didn't stop it from being true this time.

For now, things would stay the same. Sometime in the future though... if Angela was right, and he really did want to marry her? Perhaps... perhaps yes might not be such a terrible answer to give.

* * *

**Weekly updates; that's what I'm now promising. I've already got the next chapter ready to go, and I intend to get ahead by a few more in the following week. Especially with my February break coming up pretty quick :)**

**I'm starting to get into territory that I'm not sure about with this story, so I would really _really_ appreciate feedback. This is a side of Brennan we don't see usually... and I need to know if it's realistic enough for how she would act in the situation. As always, I live off of what you people have to say. **

**Thanks for reading! Expect another update next weekend! ;)  
**


	23. Chapter 23

"You still haven't told me what we're doing this weekend," she reminded him as they sat on the couch, credits to the fifth Star Wars movie playing across the screen, the theme music playing quietly, since she had lowered it down as soon as the movie had come to a close. It was nearly midnight on a Friday. The neighbors were most likely out or still awake, but Brennan had insisted because she was still feeling somewhat sleep deprived from the previous night. Even though she didn't give that explanation to Booth. It was just that the last thing any of their non-partying neighbors needed was for _them_ to be the ones that kept them awake with obnoxiously catchy music playing through the walls.

"And I don't plan to. Jeez, Bones, when I'm the one keeping the secret you act like it's absurd, but when you do it- oh, it's _perfectly_ fine."

The humor in his voice made her smile, and she changed the subject. "I don't get why we have to watch these movies out of order. I don't understand anything that's happening in them."

"That's supposed to happen. Besides, everyone else had to watch them in this order. It's the full experience we're aiming for. And the third movie doesn't have nearly as much effect until it's the last one. Think of it as a sort of... flash back thing. You're a writer, that should make sense to you."

"In a way, it does," she agreed. "But why it's so incredibly important I don't think I'll ever get. I plan my stories out fully before I begin writing them. Otherwise, I would get sidetracked in the middle, or change my main focus, and then the beginning wouldn't make sense. The timeline needs to be made from the past to the present, not the other way around. Sure, I can plan out where things end, but at the same time the past needs to be constructing itself in order to form a credible-"

He'd zoned out at some point in the middle; she could see it in his eyes, and so she stopped short.

"Sorry, Bones, I just don't get writer speak much more than I get squint speak," he apologized, immediately noticing her sudden silence. "But I understand what you were trying to tell me. Just... this is one of those things that you need to go along with without complaint."

She shrugged. "Fine. I suppose it's like your strange affliction to watching movies without reading the books they're based off of first?"

"That only applies to Harry Potter. Movies are much more my thing than books. But you already knew that." A sudden light sparked in his eyes, like he'd just realized something. "Hey, Bones, when is your movie coming out, anyways? They were working on production plans a long time ago, but I don't ever remember seeing a cast or a script..."

She shifted uncomfortably. She still wasn't exactly at ease with the idea of her first book being transformed into a movie, and it wasn't something she'd thought about recently. "The last time I spoke to my agent about it was... last May. She wanted me to... make a statement, and she brought up the movie then."

"You never actually made the statement, though," he said carefully.

"No, I didn't."

This wasn't something they had talked about, mostly because she avoided the topic at all costs. They'd talked about it plenty after it had happened, and she _had_ felt better after she'd told him everything. But later... it had been pushed aside and she'd tried to go on with her life. It was inevitable that it would come up again though. It wasn't something she could escape, or something she would ever forget, no matter how much she hated that fact.

The press had gotten the news that she had been kidnapped under suspicious circumstances, but they'd never received further details. Because of Booth's use of FBI power, he'd somehow managed to keep her name from being released during the quick prosecution of the accomplice. He had confessed, after all, and pled guilty. There hadn't been any drawn out trial like she'd been terrified of.

All that her fans knew was that she had been through some 'traumatic event,' as her agent had announced in explanation on the website they'd made for her. After the first rush of questions, she'd simply isolated herself. She still worked on the next book, but it was more of a therapeutic technique, something that made life seem normal, then out of any desire to meet a deadline. As far as she knew, deadlines no longer existed. _Whenever you're ready, darling, _Christie had told her.

And Booth had suggested staying out of the public eye for a while. She'd eagerly agreed, not that she'd ever really enjoyed having a celebrity status to begin with. Not once had she understood the draw. Having people know who you were simply got in the way of other things. Things like her far more important career as a forensic anthropologist.

"I've been... getting emails about appearances and book signings, though. Recently," she told him thoughtfully. Maybe it was time that she got back to that part of her life as well. Now that she was reminded of it, she found she was quite annoyed by how it had vanished. Taken away because of what had happened to her.

"Do you think that would be a good idea?" he asked worriedly.

She scowled, "Why not? It's been ages since I've done anything for publicity, and I know that the people who rely on me at the publishers are probably losing profits because of it. They're entitled to what I signed my contract for."

"Hey, I wasn't saying you weren't ready, Bones," he said, obviously backpedaling. "I was just asking what you're opinion on it was. Do you want to get back out there? I haven't seen you working on the book in a while... surely you've got some ideas built up by now? I mean, I read the manuscript that you had so far, but it cut off at a really crappy spot. You left me hanging, Bones."

The last part took on a teasing tone, and she felt herself relax slightly against him, her tense muscles calming and allowing her to rest her head lightly on his shoulder. It was rather comfortable, and he draped a warm arm around her, only aiding that feeling.

"Actually," she said, finding that she had been working on the concept in her head a while back and had simply given up, "I've been stuck on Kathy and Andy."

He raised an eyebrow. "You don't say?"

The slight sarcasm didn't go unnoticed. "Why do you say it like that?"

"I read the book in your voice, Bones. I can see the internal struggle going on. Both in Kathy's head and in yours."

She wanted to tell him that he couldn't see inside her head, because that was physically impossible. But she couldn't even fake ignorance about what he was actually trying to say, not anymore at least. He would see straight through it.

"If you _must _have me say it... yes, Andy and Kathy are loosely based around my experiences with you. So, when our relationship changed... I guess I sort of lost my basis for the typical Andy character that I was used to."

"So... have you thought about getting them together? And more than just the quick romp in the sack that you've put in throughout the other books? Because we both know that those little scenes were there to satisfy the publisher, and perhaps to entertain yourself a bit, too?"

She punched him lightly, but truthfully she loved the way they could discuss this, almost directly in line with a conversation about what had happened last spring, and not feel that usual tension and caution. Things had changed, and for once it was for the better. She couldn't keep the easy grin from her face at the reminder.

"Don't flatter yourself. I only brought them in at first because of Ellen's insistence. Then they just became a part of the character dynamic."

"And now?"

"I don't..." she closed her eyes. While she had wanted to discuss possible scenarios for Andy and Kathy's relationship, the idea she'd been painfully considering after giving him the first part of her manuscript for Christmas wasn't one she was sure she wanted to share. He wouldn't approve, of that she was absolutely certain. Even she was starting to think it was too personal. Something that shouldn't be shared. But between the begging of her agent and the rest of the company that controlled her affairs to make some sort of appearance and at least explain why she had disappeared for so long... she had somehow begun writing a scene that she had never in her wildest dreams imagined placing in any work of fiction.

Where she had gotten up to in her manuscript, the last part Booth had read, was where Kathy was being held for ransom by a gang that she had recently gone up against without Andy's knowledge. It had been in her original plan, actually. She'd had it written down in her timeline as the climax of the story from almost the very beginning. Before last spring.

The plan had been for an escape by her, without any help by Andy. Because she was tough, not some damsel in distress. Andy, in fact, was to be captured in the process of attempting a rescue, and she was the one who was going to save the day with her quick thinking and her martial arts skills.

As she'd sat down to write a few weeks ago, though, during one bout of boredom alone at the apartment while Booth worked late, she'd realized how dark she'd made the gang members. How careless of human life and the tragedy they'd created. And suddenly, in her mind they all were replaced by the hulking figure of Jake, aided by the small but malicious form of Andrew. And there was Kathy, right in the midst of it all.

And as soon as she'd realized exactly what her unsuspecting character had gotten herself into, she had shut the laptop and taken a cold shower, determined to not think about anything that would remind her of what had happened. Because, as long as she lived, she didn't want to see Jake's face ever again. She didn't want to watch him, even in her mind, holding someone else captive. Tormenting them with his cruelty, his violence...

Kathy was her. She couldn't truthfully deny it. Andy was a bit of a different take on Booth, not the actual exact likeness of him, but Kathy was undeniably her. Everything about her matched up, from the career as a forensic anthropologist to the writing career on the side, to the cluelessness about pop culture and the accidental slips of the tongue that seemed to upset people so much.

She had trapped herself in that same situation again, without even realizing it.

And _that_ was why Booth hadn't seen her writing at all since then. Because she was too damn scared of where the story was going to go next.

As a writer, she tried to keep to a storyline, a strict course of events that led to a set ending just as she'd been explaining to Booth only moments before. The only problem with that, though, was that it didn't always work. It was far too easy to let a story run off on its own. If a character didn't do something the right way, it had to be amended and maybe the whole section deleted. But if a character did something that felt absolutely true to form and just... fitting of the story itself, it felt like it couldn't be altered. Just as she couldn't change her own fate, she also couldn't delete the latest chapter of the story... because the moment she started writing again she would either end up in the same place or it would be totally off and she'd be stuck with permanent writer's block on a story that didn't even feel like hers anymore.

There wasn't anything she could do about it.

Suddenly aware of the internal debate she'd been having and the tense silence that filled the room, her clouded eyes made contact with Booth's worried brown ones and slowly cleared.

"Sorry, I just..."

"No, no, its-"

"Don't."

He stopped short, and stared at her in surprise. Well, he'd been about to apologize for being worried about her, when the past- how many minutes had she just zoned out for?- must have been making him crazy. If he did that, she was sure she'd have been concerned, and with every right. It wasn't his fault, not by any means.

If she was going to do this, though, and start piecing the last missing parts of her life back into the puzzle that she'd gradually been fixing- with his help, of course- she was going to need to finish that chapter. And ride out the rest of the story with it.

"I stopped working on the book on purpose," she said, her voice firm, the tremors that would have been in it held firmly back, clutched in her throat and trying desperately to escape. She swallowed them down, and went on, "I reached a... point that I couldn't go on from."

He frowned, confused, and asked a question she'd been expecting in response, "So... do you ever plan to go back to it?"

She knew that she wasn't being clear, especially with the contradicting statements about her wanting to go back to the way things had been... and then ditching it altogether. Fighting the desire to simply bite her lip and look away, avoid the conversation, she instead plunged straight in.

"I've actually just made up my mind to, no matter where it takes me." He was still frowning, waiting for a further explanation, one that would actually make sense. "Sweets would say it was my subconscious coming to me while I was writing... say it was some sort of therapeutic technique that I was doing without planning to... but I..."

"You've started putting in more of your own life," he said, suddenly getting it. His eyes had darkened, and she nodded, now allowing herself to bite her lower lip out of nervous tension.

"Are you sure that it's... Bones, are you going to, you know... send it in to your editor?"

"At some point... yes." She was no longer looking at him at all, her mind spinning with everything that she'd been thinking about over the last few minutes, going at a rate far faster than Booth could probably have kept up with.

He remained silent, and she chanced a glance at him, finding his eyes staring right back at her, smoldering with emotion.

"Bones..." he murmured, "If you are _absolutely _certain that this is what you want to do... I'm with you every step of the way."

She nodded back, her teeth still digging into her lower lip. Then she cautiously opened her mouth, "If... Booth, I want you to know that you aren't obligated to read my book. I'd rather you didn't, if it's going to upset you."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it, I guess," he said heavily, eyes never leaving hers, even though his arm tensed behind her, holding her somewhat tighter against his side.

Like he was afraid she'd slip away from him.

* * *

**If I wasn't sure about last chapter... I'm certainly much more concerned about this one. *bites nails* What did you all think??**

**Oh, and on another note... I'm actually as clueless as Brennan about what they're going to be doing for the weekend. Anyone want to help me out with some nice suggestions?  
**


	24. Chapter 24

**Not an incredibly long chapter, but I hope it's good enough to satisfy all of you. I would usually update later in the day, but I just found out some amazing news about the show... (everyone else probably knew this awhile ago, but whatever) If you're curious, check my ending author's note. **

**

* * *

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It was a long drive, but that was fine with him. They'd settled into a comfortable silence quite a while ago, with music playing lightly in the background. It wasn't obtrusive at all, but he could see her mouthing along to the words faintly, apparently having recognized the song. Her eyes, though, were glued to the book on her lap.

They had been swamped with a great deal of work lately, mostly in the form of paperwork, and she'd picked her way through the sixth Harry Potter book at an excruciatingly slow rate, before taking an extended break from reading altogether. With the weekend to themselves, though, she was already several chapters into the seventh.

"Anybody die yet?" he asked cheerfully. Her eyes snapped up to lock on his, confusion swirling in her light blue eyes. Then they cleared, and she rolled her eyes before moving her attention back to the page.

"I though I was quite clear when I threatened you to not spoil anything for me," she muttered. "Especially after you told me the ending."

"I did _not_ tell you the ending!" he protested, still grinning cheekily. "I just said you wouldn't like it."

"That in itself is enough to be infuriating. Now be quiet."

He chuckled, but obeyed, turning his attention fully back to the nearly empty road in front of them. Trees lined both sides, and the late morning sunlight created patterns across the road which danced through the windows and played across both of their features. He had noticed in particular how it shone on her auburn hair and lit it up like fire.

He wondered briefly if she was still annoyed about not knowing where they were going. From the looks of it, she wasn't thinking about anything along those lines at the moment, but he wasn't stupid enough to think he was out of the woods on it yet. Heck, he wasn't even sure if she was going to like this or not.

He really hoped she would.

They arrived at their destination just past one o'clock, but she still didn't look up, seeming almost uninterested in where he'd taken her.

"Come on, Bones," he half-moaned. "At least pretend to pay attention to what's going on in the real world."

"Sometimes a break can be nice," she murmured, her focus not leaving the page as her eyes skimmed easily down the final lines of the page and then she flipped it and tucked her bookmark neatly into the crease. The book shut with a firm _snap_ and she tucked it under her arm as she opened her door. He followed suit, and then watched over the roof as she looked around, a light breeze ruffling her somewhat untidy hair and billowing it across her face. She brushed at it, pulling it around behind her shoulders as she shielded her eyes against the sun and turned to take in their surroundings fully. "...Where are we?" she questioned, her tone so clueless and innocent that he was almost fully convinced that she hadn't been in the car with him.

He chuckled lightly, "We are in northern Maryland, Bones." He told her cheerfully. "As far from murder and criminals as we can get."

She frowned, still looking around rather than at him. "Booth, we were driving for barely over an hour. Hardly far. And besides... there's murder everywhere."

He sighed. Trust her to not get it at all. "Yeah, Bones, but _we_ are going to have nothing to do with it. This is called a _getaway_. A weekend of relaxation... nothing to do... no obligations...."

She looked doubtful, but he was willing to give her time to change her mind. He'd make sure she had a good time. Maybe he'd even get up the courage, finally, to ask the question.

"Come on," he said, stepping around the car and laying a hand easily on the small of her back as he led her towards the building they were parked in front of.

"A bed and breakfast?" she asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow as she located the sign out front and figured out where they were at last.

He grinned. "Yep. No communications with the outside world, either. We're spending the weekend here, alone. No casework."

She didn't look entirely pleased with this, but at least she seemed to relax once they got their key and settled into the room. She took over the unpacking, systematically organizing their things into separate drawers while he flipped nonchalantly through the stations on the television.

"I figured we'd head out and just drive around, maybe find something entertaining to do, and then relax here for the evening with takeout Thai food?"

"Couldn't we do that back home?"

"Yeah, but that's beyond the point. Tomorrow morning there's a nice buffet for us, and then we'll relax the rest of the day and head out for an early dinner someplace nice before making our way back to DC."

She contemplated for a moment, closing the last drawer and zipping the empty suitcases back up before climbing onto the bed beside him and offering him a quick kiss. "That actually sounds rather nice."

He smiled back warmly. "So, anything you'd like to do to pass the time until we go wrangle up some lunch?"

She raised one eyebrow. "I can think of something."

* * *

The lights were on, but they only lit the corners of the rooms, giving a cozy and not overwhelming effect. The natural light from outside had long since faded, and there was now only a dull neon-ish glow coming from the sign out front, which made its way in through the cracks of their window shades.

They were side-by-side on the balcony of their room, leaning on the railing and staring up at the clear black sky, thousands of twinkling lights winking down at them. He had an arm wrapped loosely around her shoulders, warding off the cold as best he could with his own body heat.

She was still shivering slightly, but not enough to concern him. And besides, the warmth that shone in her eyes, and the smile spread across her face, were more than enough to make up for it.

"I haven't done this since..." she shook her head in wonder, her eyes never leaving the sky. The stars seemed to reflect in the blue depths of her gaze, making them brighter than he'd ever seen them. He couldn't resist the urge to kiss her again, and he did so with a teasing light shining in his own dark brown eyes. She chuckled and pulled back slightly after his lips had melded to hers for a brief second, instead turning herself and leaning her head on his shoulder.

"You're going to come camping with me and Parker this summer," he said, breaking the peaceful silence.

She stared at him in surprise. "But that's your time with your son," she protested.

"And, like I've told you plenty of times before, my son happens to adore you. He'd rather go with you than me, probably," he added with a chuckle.

"He's your son; he loves you," she said quietly. "He might like me, but he doesn't get to see you enough as it is."

"We'll work something out. Besides, wouldn't you miss me if I was gone for two weeks with Parker?" he nudged her shoulder, his words both teasing and serious. He wondered if she'd see both sides, or if she'd only catch the more obvious joking tone.

The way her eyes met his suddenly left him with no doubt, though. "Yeah, I would," she answered in her completely honest way that left him breathless. She turned her attention skywards, leaving him staring at her and wondering how on earth he'd succeeded in getting her in the first place. He tightened his grip around her shoulders, but if she noticed she didn't say anything about it.

"There's Delphinius," she commented, pointing at a collection of stars. He recognized it, having helped Parker with an astronomy project not long ago, during which he had taken the liberty of looking it up because he knew it was her favorite.

He knew he probably shouldn't ask this, because they were on a relaxing weekend, but he still couldn't stop himself from letting the question escape. "Have you talked to your dad lately?"

Her head turned sharply and she stared at him in surprise. "No," she answered guardedly, as if she expected to be reprimanded for this.

He just nodded thoughtfully, though, and turned his attention upwards without another word. From the way he could still feel her eyes on him, he knew that she wasn't quite through with the thought. And for that, he was proud of her. Even more so when she actually addressed it again.

"I think he's unsure of how to act around me," she murmured. "Russ, too."

The sadness in her tone only made him want to turn her away from the railing and nestle her close against his chest, but this time he didn't give in to an urge. He stayed right where he was, although his hand began to rub soothingly up and down her arm, his own arm still draped across her shoulders.

Sensing that she had more to say, that she was struggling with internally, he stayed silent, his eyes watching her patiently, letting her know he was there, and he was listening.

"I just... we were getting closer. And then, when I was... when what happened..." her features seemed to harden, and she spoke harshly all of a sudden, as if she was angry with herself, or with him, or with everything... he couldn't really make the distinction. "When I was _raped_," she snapped, getting the word out through clenched teeth, "Everything changed." The burst of energy that making herself say it seemed to have taken left her looking a bit drained, and she leaned more fully over the railing, tilting her head up to stare at the stars forlornly, her eyes sparkling with a bit more moisture than had been there a moment before.

Somehow, he'd kept himself from wincing when she'd said it, but that didn't change the effect hearing it from her had. He'd accepted that it had happened, and he'd fought through the aftermath with her, but somehow hearing it from her wasn't something he had wanted. Maybe it was him being selfish, and hoping that they could just forget it, or maybe it was just pretending that the world was perfect and it had never happened, but either way, he couldn't deny it. She had yet to be this blunt about it with him, though, and that seemed like a step forward. Like... perhaps saying it was a way of gaining control back.

"Everything's going to be okay, Bones," he whispered soothingly in her ear, pulling her more fully against him. She nodded, but didn't meet his eyes. "They blame themselves, you know," he added after a silence that he wasn't quite comfortable with. "Because they weren't there, when you were a kid."

Her gaze pierced him before he could even comprehend that she had turned to face him again. "And do you blame yourself, too? Because I don't see you pulling away. Unless you actually want to avoid me altogether as well."

The pain that stabbed into his heart at that statement must have shown in his eyes, because hers were immediately shining with sadness as well. "Sorry," she whispered, looking away again, only this time focusing on the ground a floor below rather than on the brilliant sky.

"You have every right to be mad," he answered calmly. "And it's not your fault."

"But I shouldn't take it out on you," she murmured back quickly. "It's not your fault either."

He stayed silent, and her eyes found his again, although he saw the hesitation there that showed she would rather be focusing on the ground still.

"You don't blame yourself, do you?" she asked, her voice quiet and completely serious.

This was not the way he'd wanted their weekend to go.

"It's cold," he said, a finger stroking over the goose bumps that covered one of her bare arms. "We should head inside."

"No," she said firmly, eyes blazing. "Answer my question."

"We've talked about this, Bones."

But her eyes weren't giving up.

He sighed heavily. "Sometimes, yeah, Bones, I blame myself. But tell me, what did you think when I was shot by Pam Nunan? Did you blame _your_self? We're human. We think about how things could have gone differently. And I've told you before... I'd have given anything to change what happened."

Her eyes had flashed at the reference. "She was aiming at me," she answered. "Jake didn't have any interest in you. And if you had been there, at the lab, that day? He would have waited until you weren't. He had Andrew keeping a lookout, remember? He followed me in that cab back to the house. That's the only way it could have happened. They _knew_ you weren't there. And you couldn't have _always_ been there, that wouldn't have even been possible."

"Logic doesn't play a role, Bones."

She bit her lip, looking away, and he knew that his words had hit a nerve. He didn't know why, but that didn't matter. He lowered his tone.

"Your dad, your brother? They're still your family, no matter what's going on right now. And you'll all get through it. They love you, and you love them. _That's_ what's important."

She nodded, her eyes not leaving his this time.

As the silence extended, she slowly let them drift downwards to rest on her feet. "I haven't forgiven him," she murmured softly. "For leaving in the first place," she added, although he'd already taken that leap and guessed at her meaning. Her eyes drifted upwards, seemingly in an aimless pattern, and found their way to what he knew was Delphinius, even though he didn't look up to follow her gaze and confirm it. "I forgave her, though," she whispered. "Maybe it was... the video tape, that she made for me on my sixteenth birthday... or maybe it's just that she's not here to be mad at... but I forgave her for leaving."

He had no response to that, so he settled for listening silently again, watching her intently.

"And Russ... we had a sort of silent agreement, where we just never brought it up. With him helping me find dad, after we started talking again... I had thought I could trust him. But then, when I found out he'd actually gotten back together with dad, and he'd been lying to me... and he drove off with him and left me there on that bench..." she closed her eyes for the first time in the conversation, and he knew she was fighting tears now. She shook her head. "I don't even know," she whispered. "I've though I could trust them, after all this time had passed since all of that, but maybe I was just completely wrong. Maybe they want nothing to do with me."

"Hey, hey..." he soothed, rubbing her arm again, "You know that's not true," he murmured as he brushed her hair back behind her ear and gently stroked the single tear that had escaped away with a caress of his thumb.

"Booth, I've barely talked to either of them in months. They made separate plans for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I grew up in the foster system, knowing that no one wanted me; I can tell when someone's trying to avoid me and when they genuinely are sorry about missing the time." A slight smile tilted up one corner of her mouth, "With you it's always the second one," she whispered.

He managed to smile back, but it wasn't easy with the way his heart was constricting painfully from her words. "Then give them time," he whispered. "Because you can't tell me, honestly, that you think they don't care about you. I'd say the problem is probably that they care too much... and they don't know what to do about it."

Hesitantly, she leaned into him again, and he comfortingly wrapped both arms around her, glad that she was still willing to do so, rather than pulling away as she once might have done after a conversation like they'd just had.

"I'm ruining our weekend," she muttered into his shoulder.

He chuckled softly, and kissed the top of her head. "You could never ruin anything for me, Bones. Let's get out of the cold, though, okay?"

She just nodded, and they stepped back into the room together, sliding the glass closed and pulling the curtains to shut out the outside world... leaving him to hope that maybe things would look much more cheerful in the morning, and that perhaps all this talking was doing some good for the both of them.

* * *

**I hope I'm still doing a good enough job of keeping them in character. **

**I haven't been responding to reviews the way I promised, so I apologize, and I thank each and every person who dropped me a lovely review last chapter :)**

**Now, onto the fun stuff. **

**I figured I'd check and see exactly when to expect Bones to be back on TV, and found that a new episode had been added onto the episodes list, at the top, titled _The Beginning in the End_. At first, I was confused, thinking it was the same as last year. And then I realized they'd _flipped_ it. **

**I'm not sure what the rest of you make of this, but I see some very hopeful prospects ahead :) The 'end' part is a tad worrisome, but the 'beginning' part makes me think that they are FINALLY going to admit they're feelings. So it will be the start of something new, and the end of the tension and stuff. **

**Or, at least, that's what I'm desperately hoping.....**

**Oh, and if anyone knows anything at all about the next episode, _The Bones on the Blue Line_, PLEASE let me know. I'm dying for some spoilers to help me with the recent Bones withdrawl during this long wait. **

**One final question, and then I will leave you to (hopefully) click that lovely review button. Does anyone know, for certain, if they will be addressing the Gravedigger trial this season? I had heard it was going to occur, and judging from the number of fics I've seen covering it over the past few months, apparently everyone else thinks so to. I'm just wondering if anyone knows more. Because I love any information I can get my hands on :)**

**Thanks for reading all of my rambling. :)  
**


	25. Chapter 25

**Okay, yeah, this is a day late. I know you all probably hate excuses, but last week was spirit week at my school, and my weekend was busy. So, I just put several hours into cranking this out. I hope you will think it was worth the wait. :)**

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The following morning, thankfully, was one of relaxation and enjoyment. The tensions which had somehow come up late the previous night had gone in the pale glow of the sunrise, and she found herself laughing easily with him as he attempted to feed her a strawberry and she attempted, with equal vigor, to convince him that her hands were perfectly ambulatory.

Somehow, he still ended up succeeding.

They stayed in well passed noon, the television playing some cheesy soap opera in the background as they occupied themselves in easy conversation that managed, shockingly, to avoid delving back into the realms of the unfinished case which would be awaiting their return the next day.

Brennan was feeling just a faint tinge of hunger as the clock made a somewhat loud tick signaling that it had just reached one o'clock, and her stomach loudly complained to him, even when she hadn't been willing to with her voice.

Chuckling, he pulled her into his arms, holding her prisoner in his warm embrace as she struggled only weakly against him, laughing as his hands tickled the sensitive skin around her naval.

"Booth! Knock it off!" she cried, twisting futilely.

"I thinks someone's hungry," he replied teasingly. "You sure we're going to make it until tonight? Cuz if you sneak off to get some vegetarian sandwich or something, you'll ruin your appetite for dinner."

"How about ice cream, then?" she suggested with a raised eyebrow.

A wide grin encompassed his face, and his brown eyes melted as their corners crinkled in only a way that his could. "See, Bones, this is why I call you a genius."

"Because I think of good food options?" she asked, a laugh invading her voice, "Booth, that hardly constitutes as a measure of brain capacity or the ability to comprehend-"

A moment later she was rolling back in his arms, fighting to free herself as he resumed his tickling attack.

Finally he released her, and she rolled away, gasping slightly, her hair a tangled mess.

"I should shower," she said somewhat breathlessly. "Then we can head out... I saw a Friendly's when we were driving here."

Promptly, he stole her breath away again with his lips, and she broke away somewhat reluctantly, breathing much harder now.

She slid off the bed and quickly gathered up a reasonable outfit before slipping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. There was a part of her, one that she didn't let have a say much, which was telling her to invite him in with her, but the other part of her brain was telling her that she should finish as quickly as possible so they could leave. He probably still needed to shower, too.

That last point wasn't helping her other argument much.

Her logical side ended up failing, because he was the one to knock on the other side of the door, asking a hesitant, "Bones?"

She opened it for him, the water already running and her clothing already strewn on the floor. His eyes widened, and a grin roguishly took over his features as he swooped forward to capture her lips once more.

* * *

The ice cream had been a successful idea, but they'd been left with not much to do following it. They sat on a bench outside the restaurant in the cold chill of the day, when noon was just beginning to crest over and the clouds were unwilling to let it brighten even the slightest. It looked like they might be in for snow, but she was hoping against it, knowing that if the skies let loose there was always a good chance they'd be stuck driving home in it later that night.

They had vacated their room at the bed and breakfast, collecting their belongings and stowing them neatly in the trunk of the vehicle before they'd set out. Now they were, quite truly, stranded without a place to be.

"What time did you say our reservations were for?" she asked again, even though she was well aware that they were for five o'clock.

"Five," he repeated dully.

It was supposed to be a rather nice Thai place, according to Booth, and she was happy to go along with whatever he had in mind, but for some reason she felt uneasy about tonight. It was one of those feelings that wasn't logical, one that he would probably categorize as coming from his 'gut,' and that was what worried her most. Those were the things _he_ specialized in. Not her. So for her to be having them now, about this dinner...

She was concerned.

But she could deduce the reason behind it rather simply, just from the look on his face. Clearly he was concerned about something, with the amount of anxiety his facial expression at the moment was exuding, and that must be rubbing off on her.

She wasn't about to ask him about it, either, because she actually had a fairly good idea of what it was.

Brennan wasn't clueless... well, not as much as she had maybe been before. It wasn't hard to tell that maybe Angela was right about certain things. And, to be quite honest, she'd done a bit of research. Nothing fancy, or technical, just a bit of fiction reading on the subject of proposals. It wasn't something she had ever written herself, or even had a part of in real life, so she knew that she was uneducated about the subject. From what she could see now, though, with the way Booth kept glancing at her, twisting his hands, and occasionally reaching into his pocket...

She could figure it out.

And it terrified her.

It was so easy, wasn't it, to just logically consider a situation when one was not actually _in _it? How many times had she gone over events of her life long after they had passed and imagined how she could have done them differently to alter the outcome? How many times had she thrown herself into her work, into her studies, into her martial arts training, to convince herself that things would not turn out the same again? And yet, somehow bad things still happened to her. Kenton, after all, was not expected. That should have been avoidable. She should have been prepared. And thinking about it from the safety of her bedroom in the weeks following, it had been impossibly easy to imagine how she would redo the situation if it were to happen again.

The same principle applied here.

She had thought about this, quite thoroughly, or so she had believed, and she'd come to the decision that it might be reasonable to accept what Booth wanted. But now? When the possibility was directly in front of her?

It felt so much more real, and her mind was spinning with possibilities for outcomes, none of them looking positive thus far. She could say yes, but somehow her mind was shaking its head desperately whenever she landed on the idea. The reality of what it would mean seemed to crush her. It was Booth, and she loved him, and she wanted to spend forever with him...

But there was a difference.

When Sully had asked her to sail off with him, there was that moment, that first realization of what it meant, where she'd felt a happiness so great she couldn't even explain it in words. It was the feeling that she was _wanted_, that he wasn't sailing off to leave her... but rather to be only with her, because he loved her.

And then reality had caught up, and told her that she was giving up everything for one thing, and that wasn't logical. There had been Booth to think of, and Angela and her other friends, and her brother who she'd only just started to reconnect with, and her work... her work that she loved so desperately.

Brennan was someone that loved her beliefs. She stood by them, because they protected her where nothing else would. And when something trustworthy and wonderful took their place like Booth now had, she relied on that to be the thing that was there for her. But her beliefs were still _hers_. They belonged to her, as a part of who she was. And she liked to think, somewhere deep inside her, that it was part of why he loved her.

She had grown and changed, and her beliefs had come with her. She had freely admitted that she loved him, and that she believed in love, but a part of her had come to the belief, at the same time, that maybe she hadn't lost the ability to love so much as she'd simply kept it tucked safely away where only someone like him could possibly find it, knowing that he alone wouldn't break its fragile form.

But marriage had never appealed to her. As a teenager, she hadn't imagined her wedding the way Angela claimed to have done. She hadn't even thought, at the darkest times, that she'd ever find somebody willing to even _try_ to be with her. And when she finally did, it fell apart. And every time afterwards it had done exactly the same thing.

It was only logical to lose that part.

Wanting to get married, though... that was a belief which had never existed in her mind, young or mature, until recently when she'd thought about it so much from being so close with Booth.

In short, it felt almost as if she was abandoning herself completely, if he were to ask and she were to accept. It was a ritual, yes, and an archaic one at that, but it had great meaning to the people involved. And it would affect her, and it would affect him.

She knew he wanted it, because that was the way his beliefs went, but she also wanted to incorporate her own. She didn't want to be swallowed up by change.

Change had already stolen so much from her.

He wasn't trying to do anything of the kind, she knew that, but it still felt like that would be the outcome.

And suddenly she wasn't surer of anything than she was at that moment of the fact that she was going to say no if he asked.

Because she didn't really have another option if she didn't want to shatter.

* * *

The afternoon passed slowly. They finally settled back into their seats in the SUV and drove around for a while, just observing the local architecture while she pointed out meaningless facts, but they could both feel the tension in the air.

When five o'clock finally rolled around she could almost see the sweat beading up across his forehead as he held the door of the restaurant open for her. She smiled back politely, but was fully aware of the fact that the expression didn't quite reach her eyes from the grimacing smile that she got in response.

They took their seats and picked over the menu, making pointless conversation that was a great effort on her part. She had a hard time trying to come up with new topics every time a silence hit, and she always seemed to think of only sports or Parker. She desperately hoped that those weren't the only two things she ever asked him about, and then found herself wondering if he thought she used his son as a leeway into conversation. She was lost in semi-fearful thought, her eyes staring at one fixed spot on the menu, when he reached a finger up and tipped the top of it down so he could see her eyes.

She stared up at him in surprise, her mouth forming a slight 'o' shape and her fingers still curled around the edges of the laminated paper.

"Everything okay, Bones?" he asked, the frown that had been between his eyes all afternoon far more pronounced now.

She stared for a moment at it, and then gave a quick bob of her head. "I'm fine, Booth."

The frown line didn't go away, but he didn't say anything in response, going back to his own menu. She sighed and lifted hers back up to once more shield her face as she attempted to focus enough on the cursive typing to find something that looked good to order. She wondered if he'd already selected something and was waiting on her. How long had she been staring at the menu that he'd gotten concerned enough to ask her that question in the first place?

Biting her lip, she selected a vegetable dish almost at random, read quickly through the description to be sure it didn't actually have meat mixed in, and then set down the menu gingerly on the table, her eyes flicking up to check on him.

His eyes were fixed on his menu still, but they were firmly aimed at one spot. It seemed that now he was the one lost deep in thought. One hand curled around the side of the menu, while the other one tapped out a meaningless rhythm on the soft crimson tablecloth.

Without meaning to, she related the vibrant color to that of blood, and her mind easily snapped back to the lab, something she'd remarkably avoided doing for most of their weekend away. It was a Sunday night, and Cam had told everyone to take the weekend, but the building was probably still filled with workers and researchers at other stations. Some of her newer interns were probably hard at work in Limbo, identifying skeletons of people who had been left without names. A part of her yearned to be there, knowing that with every bone she studied, they were one step closer to having an identity. Having closure for their families.

And what about their latest victim? That young woman had a family searching for answers. Someone out there was responsible for her death, and they needed to be brought to justice for what they had done.

Tomorrow they would be back on the case, she reminded herself.

The waiter came around and offered them drinks, and then took their orders. They both spoke mutedly, saying only the minimum and then smiling and nodding politely as they handed over their menus.

They fell into silence immediately following his departure.

Booth seemed to be getting more nervous and agitated with every passing moment, and she knew that he probably felt that way because of the way she was acting, but since her actions were reactions to his... they seemed to be stuff in an illogical cycle of emotions. She wanted desperately to break it, but she knew that by doing so she might provide him with a false hope for a positive should he choose to go through with what she suspected, and she didn't want to do that.

And yet, at the same time, she knew that letting this continue was pure insanity. It could only hurt them both, and in the end the outcome was going to be exactly the same.

But, logical as she might be, she couldn't work up the courage that it would take to actually bring up the subject on her own. There was no proof that he was actually thinking about what she thought he was, and the risk of being wrong was one that kept her lips tightly sealed.

By the time their food arrived, they had gone from sitting and avoiding each other to constantly looking up and awkwardly catching the others' eyes before turning away. The sound of silverware scraping seemed like a wonderful distraction, and they both heartily took to eating their meals, staring pointedly at their food rather than each other. She caught his eyes on her a few times, though, and finally his voice reached her hesitantly, making her fork stop halfway to her mouth, and land back quickly on her napkin as she gave him her full attention.

"Something's wrong, Bones," he said. Not a question. "And I'd really like it if you told me what it was, because I don't know if I can handle much more of..." he gestured at her and the air in between them in general, _"this_. What's going on in that head of yours?"

"Something's bothering _you_," she countered immediately, catching him off guard.

"I think I asked you first."

"You did. That was your answer," she said simply. It took a great deal of effort, but she picked up her fork again and pretended to nonchalantly return to eating.

He stared at her for a long moment, and while she resisted the urge to look up and meet his gaze, she was fully aware of it.

"Temperance."

Biting her lip, she allowed her eyes to flicker to him.

He was staring at her, his eyes filled with too much emotion for her to decipher.

"I get the feeling you already know what's been bothering me."

She continued to worry her lip, but managed a nod, not breaking eye contact with him.

He sighed, and then slipped a hand in his pocket and pulled out a little velvet box. Somehow, seeing it for herself brought the reality crashing down all that much harder.

He didn't open it, but he placed it on the table and pushed it towards her with two fingers, until it rested only an inch away from her hand. His lips didn't ask the question, but his eyes undeniably did.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, shaking her head just a fraction and trying to maintain her composure as best she could. She didn't even want to think about what that answer would do to him.

He kept the same calm facial expression, but she saw his eyes flash, just for a split second, with something that was undeniably pain. It was gone in an instant, though, and so was the box.

"Can we pretend that never happened, then?" he asked, his voice tight. "And just get on with our evening?"

Despite the voice in her head that was screaming at her to explain and tell him exactly _why_ she was telling him no -the one that sounded quite a lot like Angela- she simply nodded and managed a small smile. The one he gave in return was more like a wince, and it cut into her heart painfully.

The rest of the evening wasn't at all what she had been hoping it would turn into. There was no easy return to simple conversation, or long lingering glances, or even any hand-holding on the table that would have at least reassured her of the connection they still shared. It was much the same as it had been before the unspoken question, only with tense sentences filling the silence.

She spent the rest of the night, and the entire quiet ride back to DC, wondering if she'd made the right choice.

* * *

**Oh dear, this wasn't what you were all expecting at all, was it? Hehe sorry about that. The characters wouldn't let me go through with a happy little perfect proposal though, not that I had one of those planned to begin with. **

**I'll let you stew over that for a while.**

**There will be more angst to come; after all, there has to be some plot and chaos in this fic. It can't all be cheery fluff and rainbows, y'know. **

**So... do I get a review? Please? **

**Oh, and thank you so much to everyone who supplied me with such wonderful spoilers :) I tried to respond to all of your reviews, but it's a bit of a challenge on my iTouch, and like I said, last week was chaos. I apologize to anyone that was missed :(  
**


	26. Chapter 26

"Sweetie," the word was simply, but it might as well have been the most probing question Angela could possibly have posed for her. It had the same effect, essentially. She froze in the position she was in over the lab table, her fingers delicately holding either end of a slender rib bone, and with great care kept her gaze focused on the white shape rather than letting them rove with a turn of her head to see the look she knew must be engraved across her best friend's features. It was one of sympathy, but of demanding interrogation at the same time. Something that only Ange could pull off. "Look at me," she said, as if she could read her mind.

Wasn't it always that way, with the two of them? At times it was nice, although sometimes it bit the end of her patience to the point where she snapped. This time, though, she only felt relieved at the... opportunity that this provided. For once, she felt more than desperate to share everything that was on her mind. She had to get it out, or she might very well explode. If she was honest, she would say, right then and there, that she had been absolutely desperate for her friend to come up to her all morning and just... ask.

And now she had, and the words were there, on the tip of her tongue, held prisoner only by the last shreds of her confidence.

She turned slowly, her eyes appraising her friend cautiously, trying to read just how strong the sympathy was in contrast to all the other emotions. But then again, did she want sympathy, or did she want anger? Because she wasn't sure whether she hated or pitied herself. She hadn't been sure of the fact all morning, or last night even, and it had driven her crazy.

The previous night had been the purest form of torture she'd ever experienced. The silence was deafening to the point where she wondered if she even had the ability to hear anymore. She recalled periodically turning her head, in a way that she hoped had been unnoticeable and discreet, to see if he was speaking and she was simply unable to discern his tone.

But he hadn't been, and so she hadn't either.

To her surprise, and partial relief, he had not retired to the couch as she had at first feared he might. They shared the bed as always. The distance between them, though, might as well have been the solid wall between her room and the rest of the apartment.

It was cold, in those sheets all alone, feeling his presence there but just out of reach, across an impossible abyss of just a few feet.

She had felt alone, and trapped.

And she had done nothing about it.

"What _happened?"_ Angela inquired, clearly interpreting her silence in whatever ways her quick mind had jumped straight to. And whatever she was thinking now, Brennan knew that it wasn't positive. Which was good, because it meant they were one more step in the direction of one another.

"I'm not..." she managed to say, but her voice wasn't her own. She wondered vaguely if she'd even said anything at all since the awkward conversation of the after-question dinner they'd shared. Had she offered a greeting to anyone since she'd arrived that morning? Had she shared any theories with her coworkers?

The fact that she couldn't remember was certainly alarming in itself. She'd been in a half-alert state, that was something she was becoming rapidly aware of. She just wasn't sure, right then, if she wanted to come completely out of it, or stay within its warm embrace, where it was safe and isolated.

But she did want to talk, because that was the only plausible way to move forward, to overcome this latest hurdle. And she _had_ to do that. For her, for him... for _everything_.

"Come on," Angela said, in the assertive way that Brennan had needed to hear, and a moment later her arm was seized and they were descending from the platform and across the small expanse that would lead them into the protective enclosure which was the artist's office. "Tell me everything," she said immediately, once they were safely within its walls with the door sealed behind them and the blinds drawn.

"Do you... do you remember when Hodgins and you... when he was trying to propose?" she asked, the hesitation making her voice do things she wasn't aware it could do. It broke and cracked, and she hated herself for it, clearing it several times as she watched Angela's reaction, and only hoping that it would come out normal upon her next attempt.

Her friend's eyebrows had shot up, and her mouth opened a crack before shutting again. "He... proposed?" she asked hesitantly.

Brennan looked away, unable to meet her eyes, and nodded numbly.

She had expected Angela to do something typical – hug her, demand an explanation for why she had said no... any variety of things. What she did instead came as a surprise, and a welcome one.

Angela simply put her arms around her, and rubbed her hands up and down her back. There was a peaceful silence in that moment that was far more soothing than anything else could have been.

"I know, Bren, I know. It's okay," she said calmly after she'd pulled away and tugged her arm gently to get her to sit beside her on the couch. "You said no, right?"

Biting her lip this time, she offered another quick jerk of her head.

Angela simply nodded back knowingly, though, and she felt herself relax further, her tense shoulders sliding back to allow her back to rest gently into the cushion behind her.

"It's so hard, isn't it?" she murmured. "Sweetie, did you want to say yes?"

"I... for a while, I did. But when he actually came out with the box I just... I'd already decided to turn him down."

"Why?"

It wasn't an accusing question, just a heartfelt one.

Her voice was much more controlled, more like it was engaging in a normal conversation between them than it had so far. "I felt like it wasn't me," she said softly, "Like I was giving something that I didn't really... have. And I just... couldn't do it."

It had made so much more sense the night before, but the way Angela was looking at her made her realize that she understood it completely, and that helped a great deal with her acceptance of it all.

"You love him, that doesn't change because you turned down marriage, Bren."

She looked up at her, eyes filled with hopefulness.

"He might be hurt, but you just have to make him understand. And I know you; I can see when you've made up your mind about something, when you're turning something over in your head. And you've got to know, right now, that you're going to spend forever with Booth."

"I know that," she admitted, truth resonating in her voice. She felt her confidence creeping back with warmth. "I can't... I don't _want_ to imagine anything else. And that... it scares me, Ange. Because I'm a _scientist_, and I know that things... don't always work out. But I want them to, for once."

"Good," Ange said with a definitive nod. "That's good enough for Booth, sweetie. Just make sure he knows it, okay?"

For the first time in their short but undeniably important conversation, she felt that Ange was giving her instruction, the sort of thing that Ange just always... did.

She nodded firmly, "I will, Ange. He... I know that he needs to know it. Because I think... I've made him very confused, and upset, and I just... I feel horrible for it."

Angela offered a small smile, "You two always sort things out; that won't change either. Now go on, get out of here, go find him!"

Managing a slight chuckle at the command, she got to her feet with her friend, who put a hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow.

She felt like she should thank her, but got the feeling that now wasn't the time, that her friend wanted her to show it in another way. Hesitantly making her way to the door, she offered a smile and a nod as she exited, and the warm grin she gained in return was enough to boost her across the smooth surfaces of her laboratory and out the door.

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Partway to the Hoover building she lost her nerve as she frantically tried to figure out what to say to him. How was she even going to start the conversation? At some point between the start of their weekend and the end of it, they'd lost that easy connection that she had started taking for granted.

Her cell phone's shrill ring made her jump in surprise, and when she saw that the number was from the lab she eagerly jumped at the opportunity for a distraction.

"Brennan."

"Hey, Dr. B.," Hodgins' voice greeted her warmly, "I found an interesting little critter nuzzled away at the base of the victims neck... got a much better read on a chemical composition than I was able to get from the maggots we found on the rest of the body. Shows high levels of some toxin, looks like it could be a venom of some sort, that I'm analyzing right now... might very well be our cause of death."

"Excellent work, Hodgins."

There was talking in the background, and she heard Hodgins speaking with someone that she realized a moment later was an irritated Angela.

"Get off the phone," she caught her friend hissing at her husband, and then Hodgins coughed nervously into the receiver.

"Right, just thought you should know. I'll... y'know, get back to work now."

With a click he was gone, leaving Brennan once more to her silence. She sighed and leaned her head back into the seat, closing her eyes and trying to breathe evenly. She couldn't do this, not now. Dejectedly, she pulled back onto the road from where she had stopped in a shallow ditch, and made her way to the Diner, where she drank a coffee slowly for the following hour, partially wishing that he would show up with the same idea, and they'd be able to resolve this together.

He didn't, though, and she found herself back at the lab again before she was even aware of getting in her car. She ignored Angela, knowing that she should probably explain but suddenly not feeling in the mood for talking at all. That had vanished completely as though a cloud had simply shifted and blocked out her temporary glimmer of sunlight.

She worked late, and when Angela finally demanded that she go home, she did so only reluctantly, knowing that what she would find wasn't something to look forward to.

He was already there, so when she carefully set her bag down and dropped her keys into the bowl by the door, she listened cautiously until she picked up on the sounds of the shower water running.

The hour was late enough that she might be able to get away with simply changing and climbing into bed, feigning sleep until he had joined her and drifted off. It was very possible.

Guilt gnawing at her stomach, she tiptoed around and stripped off her work clothes, pulling on a tank top and pajama pants and sliding easily under the cold sheets, trying not to look at his side of the bed.

It was more difficult than she had thought it would be, closing her eyes and keeping them that way as she heard the bathroom door open. It wasn't as if she didn't know that she should be talking to him, but that morning had been completely silent, and he could have just as easily been the one to initiate the conversation.

In a way, she felt as if his reaction to her turning him down wasn't exactly fair. Yes, he was hurt because of it, and she knew that he had a right to feel that way, but hadn't he considered how she would take the proposal? He must have realized that she would have put thought into the idea since they'd been together, and that she was doing what she thought was best. That was what she always did. And this was her choice as much as it had been his decision to ask her.

She recalled the way Angela had continuously said no to Hodgins until he said that she was enough, that he didn't need marriage to be happy with her.

For Booth to be so obviously upset about her turning him down right now felt like he was saying exactly the opposite of what Hodgins had told Angela.

That she _wasn't_ enough. That they weren't good enough without a tangible connection formed by a piece of paper and a ceremony.

And that scared her.

So when he stepped into the room and she heard him freeze, she couldn't breathe at all. She lay still, praying that he would cross the room and just climb in, no matter how awkward things were, because that was what was _normal _for her. Sleeping in this bed with him right beside her.

The pause was long, and she was desperate to just open her eyes, but she could feel his gaze burning into her, and she couldn't do it. Couldn't open her eyelids and see him staring at her. Because she didn't want to know what it was that she would read in his soft brown eyes. Would it be hurt, or anger, or something else equally upsetting?

Almost worse, though, was the retreating footsteps she heard a moment later, and then the soft shutting of the apartment door. She sat bolt upright almost immediately, and gasped out as though she'd been physically injured.

"Booth," she whispered into the silence.

But he was gone, and somehow she knew that nothing she said in that moment could possibly bring him back.

For the first time since they'd moved in together, she was alone for the night.

And for the first time in months, she slept in the turmoil of nightmares and screams, terror haunting her at every corner, until she woke sobbing in the early hours of the morning, and could do nothing but lay there alone with her fears.

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**So, that was a bit shorter of a chapter than usual, sorry about that. **

**On an up note, I have another chapter already written, and the one after that is on its way. Sooo... I might be tempted to put up a new chapter early sometime this week. Of course, that depends on all of you. After all, if I don't get reviews, I'm just going to think that you don't want another chapter, aren't I? :)**

**Anyways, thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, and I hope everyone is still enjoying this story and it isn't getting boring or anything. It feels like I've been writing this forever. xD **


	27. Chapter 27

**Hello everyone!! Here is your early chapter, as promised. I really appreciated all the wonderful reviews I got on the last chapter!! You are all amazing!!**

**Now, I know that many of you weren't pleased with Booth in the last chapter, but you've only gotten Brennan's perspective on the matter. You have no idea what was going on in Booth's mind. Which is why I really hope this makes it all better.**

**Well, not all better, exactly... but atleast understandable, maybe? You be the judge. :)**

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His pencil tapped out an angry rhythm across his desk, and he glared at the spot of paint that stained the upper right corner of his otherwise pristine office windows. It had never seemed so offensive until that moment, but then again everything seemed to be putting him in a bad mood lately.

His back was stiff from spending the night sleeping amidst the dust on his old bed at his former apartment. There were still a good deal of things there that had never made the move to Brennan's apartment, and they were piled in various locations, some in various forms packaging. There were half-filled cardboard boxes cluttering corners and random items sitting in places where they hadn't been previously.

If he had thought it would be nostalgic or comforting to be amongst his own things again, he was certainly far from the mark. All it did was remind him constantly of the fact that things weren't right between them. He'd been forced to lay all of his picture frames with photos of her or the two of them down flat to avoid seeing her face in every direction he looked, because that was simply too painful.

He hadn't gotten much sleep, but he'd lay on the bed long enough to miss hers inexplicably. And it had nothing to do with a different mattress or pillows, but with the company, and the warmth and smell which were simply hers that he was now lacking.

What was really frustrating him the most, though, was the fact that he'd known she'd say no, and he'd still been idiotic enough to attempt it. He'd been a Ranger, a sniper; he knew plenty about keeping his guard up and his focus on the target. He should have read the obstacles in the way, such as the way she'd been looking at him apprehensively that whole night, and just put it off entirely.

But there had been something there, too, which had pushed him forward. Perhaps it had been the knowledge in her eyes... the way it had seemed as if she was already fully aware of his intentions, which had made the urge to _try _so damn hard to resist.

And she had been aware, hadn't she? The way she reacted... how _calmly_ she took it... that had been a stab to his heart. He'd seen the genuine sincerity in her eyes and heard it in her voice when she'd said she was sorry, but that didn't take away the effect of the words. Like she'd been expecting to say them all night.

Then of course, came the worst part. The part where she didn't even know what she had done, but the effect was just the same.

_They were both staring at the little stick, the positive indication incredibly obvious despite their wishes for it to not be. Things were going far too fast for him, and definitely for her. But he knew that he loved her, and that he was willing to do anything for her. Because he wanted this. He really did. And while it was terrifying, the thought of having a child, it was at the same time exhilarating. A new experience, sure, but one that he knew he could handle. He would do it far better than his own father had._

_ Without preamble, he dropped to one knee and clasped her hand in his as she stood leaning against the counter, staring at nothing at all with a blank expression across her face. She snapped out of it as she turned to look down at him with confusion, and then sudden realization._

_ "Becca, I know we didn't... intend for this to happen. But it did, and maybe it's... a miracle in disguise. I want this to work. I want to have a family with you." He slid off his college ring. "This is all I've got for now, and I know it's not very nice looking, but I'll get you a really nice diamond, and I'll-"_

_ "Seeley, are you asking me to marry you?" she asked, her eyes shining but her expression giving away nothing of how she felt about that. It could have been happiness, or sorrow, for all he could tell. The shock of the past few minutes seemed to be creating a fog around everything._

_ "Yes. Will you? Marry me?" _

_ She stared at him for the longest moment, and then she slowly shook her head and whispered, "I'm sorry, Seeley."_

_ He got to his feet slowly, staring at her as he waited for an explanation of some sort, a reason. If she was scared, he knew they could get past it. But she didn't offer him one, only shook her head again, eyes filled with pain, and quickly exited the bathroom. _

To hear the same exact words from Bones... to see in her eyes that she wasn't going to say anything else... it hurt more than he could possibly put into words. Rejected twice, the same way. It seemed like a growing pattern, and he felt like it couldn't be some sort of coincidence. Maybe if she hadn't said it that way, if she'd told him _why_, even if it was just to confirm that it was because she still thought it was an antiquated ritual, or that she thought they were perfectly fine the way they were, it all would have been fine. But it hadn't been, because she hadn't.

And when she didn't tell him, when he knew her well enough to know that usually she'd be quick to jump in and tell him all the scientific reasons why, he could tell there must be another reason. One she didn't want to tell him.

He just didn't know what it was.

The fact that things had only gone worse from there wasn't something he could attribute to either of them specifically. It wasn't his fault, and nor was it any more hers, that the air hadn't exactly been clear for the rest of the night. They couldn't have controlled that if they tried, and neither of them had made the effort then or on the ride home to address the issue again. If he was honest, he would say that he had been waiting for her to say something, anything, and when she hadn't... he'd made the decision not to as well.

And despite his efforts to push the whole subject away earlier, it had stayed on his mind, and undoubtedly upon hers as well.

Things had only gotten worse since then. They just couldn't connect properly, and he felt like he was on a different plane from her entirely, and he couldn't even read her face the way he'd always been able to. It was like she'd shut her pages on him, and he was stuck looking at a cover that he'd already memorized, that didn't change and couldn't be interpreted, when all he wanted to do was open her up and understand every bit of her that was hidden away.

But now he couldn't, because here he was in this dumb office, and she was over at the Jeffersonian digging through her bones on the latest case.

He missed that, too, heading out on a case with her. Right now he was getting information through Cam, who kept urging him to come over and work things out, but for the most part he was resisting her attempts. He wanted it to be Brennan that came to him, and he kept hoping that she would walk in.

He tossed the pen aside as if it had personally offended him, and then sat up a bit straighter and phoned through to the lab, straight to Cam's office, hoping for an update that would maybe get him over there on official business.

He'd made up his mind to make the first move, and, perhaps, if he went to her, she would see it as an opportunity to explain. The shock might have just gotten to her the night before, and that was why she'd closed up on him.

As it was, luck was apparently finally deciding to join his side in the battle. Cam told him that Hodgins had discovered that the woman had been injected with some snake venom whose name he forgot instantly when she told him, and that they could _probably_ use his brain to help them with the details and figuring out how to find her identity.

He was out the door and in his SUV faster than he'd thought was possible. He certainly beat his personal best, but whatever the new time was he didn't even care. He was far too focused on getting to the lab as quick as he could, to see if there was any hope of working out a solution within the next few hours.

She was up on the platform, not that it was a surprise in any way, but she had her back to him as he came in through the sliding glass doors. He jogged up the steps as he normally would, card sliding easily into the system as he went by, and joined the group clustered around the table on which lay the bones of their mystery woman.

"What have I missed?" he asked, offering a smile as his eyes slid over each of them, landing hopefully on Brennan's face.

Her eyes were aimed downwards, though, and he didn't miss the significance of that at all. Apparently, she was no where near as eager to see him as he had been to see her. Did she want to work out the issue at all, or was she upset still about the fact that he loved her enough to want to marry her? She had her views on marriage, yes, but he had been hoping that she'd see it as a show of his affection, rather than hating him for attempting to connect them further. But the way her gaze slid up to meet his with ice in it only had him stepping back in concern that he had been right with his first guess.

"We've identified cause of death to have been from injection of a mixture of snake venoms. Hodgins is separating them now, and looking for genetic traits that might tell us what specific snakes they came from and where those snakes can be found, or even if there venom is available for commercial or medical purchase. So far we can't narrow it further than that. Angela has modified her original sketch, allowing for a more narrow set of features and fuller cheeks, and we hope to find a match. Indicators from Cam's analysis of what little material she had to work with gave indicators that the poison penetrated most of the system, but it either worked so fast that it didn't gather thickly in most places, or it wasn't injected in a large quantity."

She had rattled most of that off quickly, and he nodded carefully when she was finished, hyper aware of the fact that her eyes were locked on his in a cold way, one that had his heart racing and his brain spinning. It was very evident that she was compartmentalizing, and it hit him suddenly that maybe she was trying to push him away entirely now.

Losing her was not a possibility he could live with.

"Bones..."

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Angela pushing Nigel away, and dragging Hodgins along. Cam had already made herself scarce. Within a few seconds, they were completely alone on the platform.

"Yes?" she answered stiffly. Now that the others were gone, he could see that she had only gotten tenser. As if they'd provided some sort of shield of protection, and she felt she had to be extra cautious with them no longer present beside her.

"We need to talk."

"You didn't seem like you wanted to last night."

Normally, he'd have winced at that, but he was too quick with a return comment for that to even hit him full force. "You didn't seem to either, seeing as you were pretending to be asleep to avoid me."

She did something then that seemed to surprise both of them in equal measure. She took a step backwards, away from him, rather than moving up to get in his space and confront him. The wall fell away, and the vulnerability showed through for a brief second before she hardened herself again. It seemed like it took a great effort, though, for her to move forward again and stand only a foot away from him, shaking. Whether it was with anger or something else, he truly couldn't tell.

"So you decided to leave, then, because I was upset about something I had a right to be upset about?"

"And I didn't have a right to be upset?"

She opened her mouth furiously, but he went on, his anger building. There had to have been a reason that she hadn't told him why she had said no. No way would she have not burst in with a reminder of her views on marriage by now if it was because of that.

"I though you would at least have considered it, but clearly I was wrong. You didn't even give it a single thought, did you? Because the fact that I want to spend the rest of my life with you apparently doesn't mean too much!"

Horror flashed in her eyes, and he felt it go straight through every inch of his body at the same time. He knew he shouldn't have said it, and more than anything wanted to take it back, but it was already there, hanging in the air between them, and it was like smoke, untouchable. He couldn't possibly bring it back down his throat now.

"You know how I feel!" she said, her voice a hoarse shout that broke in the middle, but the fury and the denial in it clearly recognizable.

He had intended to apologize, but her accusation that he never should have tried hit a nerve. Yeah, he knew how she felt. She didn't want to even consider marrying him. Hadn't even paused for a second after he'd pretty much popped the question straight out to her. Hadn't even _bothered_ to tell him why, because apparently that wasn't important enough. The same way it had been with Rebecca. "Good point. That's why I should have known better than to ask you at all, right? Because you would never want that with me."

For a brief second, he swore he saw a tear spark in the corner of her eye, but then it was gone as she whipped around and vanished from the platform, her office door slamming furiously behind her.

And he was left alone right where he was, the words he'd just uttered echoing in his head as a ceaseless taunt at his own stupidity.

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**I'm rather nervous about this chapter, so pretty please let me know how it went. :) **

**Did that explain why he reacted the way he did? Was the end too OOC? **

**Basically what we've got right now is a whole lot of misunderstanding and a whole lot of non-explaining. **

**Oh, and just so you know, Booth and Brennan aren't happy with me. I must have written at least three different scenes where they worked things out before I went back and deleted them. They want to work things out... I just won't let them xP **

**But I have one more little surprise planned coming up in a little while, and it requires the angst. That actually might be next chapter... But we'll see how things work out. Hopefully it will be up by Sunday. Monday at the latest. :)  
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	28. Chapter 28

***Nervously bites fingernails* Hello once more, everyone! I really hope this chapter satisfies all of you. Really. **

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When the door opened, her hand flew up immediately to wipe away the tears which were streaming down her face. She half-expected it to be Booth, but instead she saw her best friend standing there, her eyes swimming with sympathy as she gently shut the door behind her and picked her way around the coffee table to sit beside her on the couch.

"Oh, sweetie," she murmured, pulling her over so that her head rested lightly on her friend's shoulder. Another sob shook her shoulders, but she refused to let any sound escape.

"How much did you hear?" she managed to choke out after a few minutes passed in silence.

"All of it," Ange said after a short pause. "He didn't mean anything he said, Bren. We both know that."

She shook her head, the pain in her chest constricting agonizingly. "Ange, you heard him. He said that he thought I would never want that level of commitment with him, that how I felt about him didn't matter and he never should have bothered asking at all because... because he thinks I don't even..." She clamped her teeth down hard on her lower lip, fresh tears springing into her eyes, and Ange squeezed her shoulders comfortingly.

"You never went and explained to him, did you?" she asked softly, her tone gentle and understanding. Brennan nodded helplessly. "I didn't think you did, but that's okay. It's okay, sweetie. You two... your emotions are just running high and you don't even know what you're saying anymore, but you love each other, and you know that. Booth _knows_ you love him, Bren."

She just shook her head in protest, opening her mouth to point out Booth's open exclamation that proved the opposite, but Ange cut her off again.

"This _will_ work out. I didn't spend four years pestering after the two of you to see it all go south. And I will not stand by and let it happen if both of you are willing to look the other way, believe me."

When she said nothing in response, she felt her friend shift into a more comfortable position beside her before the next question came.

"Brennan, what happened last night?"

Her eyes trained on a loose thread on her jeans, she explained the entire thing to her friend, who listened silently, nodding every now and then to encourage her to continue.

When she was finished, the silence which greeted her prompted her eyes to raise nervously to meet those of her friend.

"I think you're both very confused," Ange murmured softly. Brennan raised an eyebrow, and she went on, "You're both expecting something to solve your problem, and its not happening, so you're blaming each other for it. And I expect that the G-man is probably blaming himself for causing the whole mess, whether he's aware that he is or not. That can't be helping his logical side very much."

She wasn't ready to accept the hope that Angela was offering her, but she was eager to nonetheless. She did have some questions though.

"Then why did he just say that he-"

"Because you were both angry, Bren. Nothing more than that. How else could he possibly have responded that way? He just acted on the first thing that came to mind, which was to deny what you'd said rather than agree with it. And let me tell you, once you left, he stood there for a good solid five minutes looking like he hated himself."

Her eyes were once again on Angela's, hope making them wide. "He did?"

"Yeah, sweetie, he did. He's probably torturing himself back at the office right now, trying to figure out how to apologize."

She looked away. "Then why didn't he come in here himself, or call?"

"Because he's still upset, and he probably thinks you hate him," Ange said bluntly, her eyes practically blazing as she snatched up Brennan's phone from where it lay on the table and tossed it at her. "Call him right now, and sort out this whole thing, got it? And not over the phone, for goodness sake. Tell him to meet you somewhere. The diner, your apartment, I don't care. Go somewhere, together, and get your heads screwed on straight."

As she toyed with the phone hesitantly, Angela stood. "I'm not kidding, Bren." Her tone was, finally, firm and authoritative, and that was probably what got her to open the cell and glide her fingers over the well-memorized keys, choosing to dial it out rather than hit her first speed dial button for once. It gave her a few extra precious seconds before the line began to ring in her ear.

Angela looked like she wanted to stay, but she seemed to make up her mind just as the third ring went off, and disappeared from the office, leaving her completely alone.

"Bones?" his voice greeted her, sounding almost desperately hopeful.

"Yeah," she said softly, "It's me. Booth, are you... could you... come back to the apartment tonight?"

"I..." the surprise at her request was evident in his tone, and he stumbled for words, "Yeah, I mean, sure... I'll come home, Bones, if you want me to. I'll... what time? I mean, I get out of here probably around five, but I could just... leave early, or give you... I don't know, more time, or... whatever you, you know... need. Or I could-"

"Five will be perfectly fine," she murmured carefully, her voice still feeling a bit off.

He fell immediately silent from his rambling, and there was a pause before he spoke again. "I... yeah. Five. I'll be there. And I... Bones, I'm-"

"I'll see you then," she said quickly, yanking the phone from her ear and hanging up. She breathed out a deep sigh as she stared at it, knowing all too well that he'd been about to apologize. But this time, she understood what Angela had just told her. They couldn't do that over the phone. She needed to see him, and explain her side, just as much as he probably felt he needed to explain his own. Only then could they move past whatever this was that separated them at the moment.

Making up her mind about something she hadn't even really been thinking about, she shed her lab coat and headed out of her office.

Ange was on the platform, and immediately turned to look at her with raised eyebrows and a hopeful expression, to which she offered a nervous nod before continuing on her way to Cam's office. She barely caught the grin which spread across her best friend's features when she realized exactly where she was going. But she stayed on the platform, turning her attention back to Hodgins as he spoke to her while his eyes remained glued to the microscope.

"Cam?"

Her boss looked up from the paperwork, one hand resting on top of the computer mouse, the other pointing out her spot amidst the tiny font of the top page in a rather daunting looking stack of paperwork.

"Dr. Brennan," Cam greeted her with a friendly smile, although it didn't quite reach her eyes. She looked tired, and her eyes were decidedly dull, as if this was exactly how she'd spent her entire day thus far. Brennan would have felt bad for her if she wasn't in such a hurry.

"I hate to leave so early, but I was wondering if I might take the rest of the day off, and come in early tomorrow? There haven't been any pressing developments in the case that need me in the lab at the moment, and I'm confident that Nigel can handle anything that comes up."

Cam blinked a few times, as if she'd had a hard time following, and then seemed to clear her head. "Sure, go ahead. You're here far too much anyways."

She offered a smile and a nod, thanked her, and then turned on her heel and hurried out of the office, her bag swinging over her shoulder as she now made her way towards the exit. It was three o'clock now, and she was fairly certain she might need the full extent of her two hours to make sure everything worked out perfectly. Tonight was not a night she could risk getting wrong, not when everything else had been going so terrible as of late.

It had been a while since she had done the shopping, because Booth was always the one to run out for groceries, usually on his way home from work before he swung over to pick her up, so it took her longer than she'd expected to find everything she needed.

With her time beginning to dwindle upon her arrival back at the apartment, she rushed about pulling out pots and pans and a variety of spices and ingredients which she had been aware she had enough of before her trip to the store. Knowing what he liked, she even pulled out some bacon from the refrigerator to add to the mix.

A short while later, water was boiling and the bacon was sizzling. She leaned against the counter with a sigh as she lowered the temperature on the noodles and watched in silence as the food continued to cook. Her eyes flicked to the clock. She only had roughly twenty minutes remaining before he got home. She bit her lip and turned away from that wall, pushing herself away from the counter and checking on the state of the living room. Everything was in order, and with nothing to do she headed back somewhat dejectedly to the kitchen, feeling as if she should be rushing around, but not having anything to _do_. Luckily, the noodles seemed to be about finished, and she drained out the water and poured them into the pan, adding the remainder of the ingredients, stirring, and sprinkling bits of bacon all across the crust on one side. Sliding the pan into the oven, she stepped away and dropped the oven mitt lightly on the counter. It would be ready just in time, and she did have other things that she could get done at that moment.

Hurriedly she began to take care of the table, now that she had the time while the meal cooked in the oven, and didn't have to worry about the noodles boiling over if she left them unobserved for too long.

The tablecloth was a plain green, but she thought it accented nicely with the golden-yellow candles she intended to use. She set two wine glasses out on either side, and decided on using her favorite dish set.

A sizzling sound caught her attention, and she spun around to see that she'd left the bacon pan on the stove, balanced just barely where she'd set it down, and the grease in the bottom was popping and sending up steam. Groaning, she yanked it from its precarious position, reaching to spin the dial and turn off the burner, only for it to slip from her hand and clatter to the floor. She had, thankfully, dodged to the side and avoided it landing painfully on her foot, but the mess that it created seemed to intensify the small headache that had been increasing steadily every since she'd returned home.

It was only when she'd finished wiping up the mess that she recognized that the air had a decided burnt tinge to it, and she bolted upright as she yanked open the oven, coughing in the whirl of smoke that spat itself out in her face, cloaking upwards to the ceiling.

She swore furiously, yanking her hair away from her eyes as the smoke stung in them. Seizing the nearest towel, she fanned at it, gasping in shock as she felt a hand on her shoulder. Spinning, she found the last person she wanted to see at that very moment standing behind her, surveying the damage with wide eyes.

"Bones," he said cautiously as she stepped back from him, biting away the sudden tears which had been brought forth by the smoke. His hand fell limply at his side as she moved out of his reach, and he watched her with concern the only emotion in his eyes. It had been so long since she'd seen it there that she felt overcome with a desire to simply press herself into his arms and feel warm and safe once more... but she fought down the emotion. There were things which they had to get through first.

He stepped forward before she could speak, and took the oven mitts from the counter, reaching into the mouth of the smoke to pull out the ruined macaroni and cheese. She bit back a sad gasp at the sight of the blackened food. Her completely failed attempt to do something nice for him and set the mood for the evening.

Unexpectedly, he stepped forward and reached for her hand. She allowed him to take it as he held it gently in his hand, his thumb stroking over the smooth skin on the back of it. He looked gently into her eyes when she hesitantly glanced up at him, and murmured softly, "We'll order Thai."

"I wanted to-"

"I know, Bones. Don't worry about it, okay?"

She just nodded, aware of how close they were standing. Slowly, he moved away and picked up the phone. She stepped around him and dealt with the oven, turning off the heat and flicking a switch to turn the fan on. The smoke dissipated gradually.

"I had it delivered," he explained calmly as he motioned for her to take a seat.

Nervously, she did so, watching him closely to see if she could interpret his emotions. His face was a careful mask of calm, though, and she couldn't get a good read on it.

It took her a long moment to realize that he was waiting for her to speak, and when she did she opened and closed her mouth before hurriedly getting to her feet and digging through the cupboards to locate matches. With shaking hands, she struck one and lit the candles before settling down into her seat once more.

"I'm sorry," she murmured softly after they'd sat staring at the flickering flames for a moment. His eyes met hers in surprise, and finally she could see what he was thinking. _For what?_ "I should have... I should have told you, when you asked, and I didn't, and now... all of this has happened, and I... last night was just..."

A hand rested softly on top of hers, and she let out a soft sigh at the contact, her eyes lingering on them for a moment before they wandered back up to his face again. She couldn't leave it there, and she was relieved to see that he clearly had no intent of interrupting her.

"I love you," she said breathlessly. "And when I said that I... when I told you I didn't want to marry you... it wasn't because I don't love you. It was..." she shook her head, not sure how to put it into words.

But a glow of warmth now shone behind his eyes. "It was because you are who you are," he finished for her.

A smile finally crept across her face, relief making her heart light for the first time in days.

"I shouldn't have reacted the way that I did either," he said quietly. "And for that I'm sorry. It was... I was wrong to have expected so much of you, when you've already done so much for me. You had every right to make your own choice. And I... reacted poorly to it."

"Because I didn't explain," she finished in a soft murmur, her eyes dropping to the table.

"Maybe," he said, "But that doesn't excuse me for not accepting your choice. I wasn't thinking right."

She nodded slightly, her eyes once more locked with his, and this time seemingly unable to pull away. "I knew that was why you were acting the way you were," she said, "Angela... she told me to go and tell you my side, but I... I chickened out."

He chuckled softly, "I'm surprised you know that one, Bones," he murmured. For just a moment, she could have imagined that nothing had happened, and that they were just as they'd always been. It was just such a typical thing for him to tell her. But reality had a way of catching up. "I do wish you would have told me... even though I really should have known it for myself. And... I wanted to make sure you knew it, even though I thought I made it clear before... but I love you, and that won't ever change. Whether you put the ring on your finger or you never do, that will never ever go away."

Tentatively, she leaned forward, and he grinned as he met her lips with his over the table, carefully avoiding the candles. It only lasted a brief second, but it was enough to make her heart soar and a shiver go down her spine. God, she'd missed him.

"To be honest, I'm not even sure why I didn't just tell you. I..." she shook her head, frowning, "I wasn't feeling like myself... usually I'd be, you know, direct about it all. Maybe because it's... you. And you mean... you mean a lot more to me than most stuff that I like to be direct about."

Their lips met again, lingering a bit longer this time.

When the doorbell rang and Booth answered, the warm scents of familiar Thai food filling the air and masking those of burnt cheese and noodles, she felt herself relax further.

Finally, they were back on track.

* * *

**Please let me know what you thought, and especially if I've left anything out that needed to be resolved, or if you have any ideas that you'd like to share. The next chapter will be quite the doozy. I'd be curious to know what you all think is coming next ;)**


	29. Chapter 29

***Guilty face* Hello everyone! I um... sort of forgot to update yesterday. I hope that this chapter will make up for the lateness :)**

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"Darn Thai food!" she gasped as she sat up, groaning before leaning back against the opposite wall.

"Well maybe if you hadn't eaten my share of the noodles we wouldn't be having this problem," he commented lightly as he rubbed her back from his position crouched on the floor beside her. She offered him a glare in response. "Hey, I'm not sick, and that's the only thing we ate differently, since you gobbled them all down before I had a chance. I'd say it's probably karma."

She was about to retort, but another wave of nausea hit her, and she dove forward and heaved over the toilet bowl. Gentle hands pulled her hair back and continued to rub up and down her back, and when she sat back again he pulled her into his arms.

"Sorry, Bones," he murmured apologetically. "I know that can't be much fun."

"It's not," she answered dryly.

At least dinner the night before had gone remarkably well, and so had the remainder of their evening. While she'd missed Booth in general, she hadn't been so fully aware of how much she missed him in bed until they were hurriedly making their way up the hall, undressing between kisses.

And then, of course, she'd woken up at an ungodly hour and staggered in here to begin retching. Booth had followed shortly, woken up by her struggle to escape the confines of the warm sheets, and hadn't left her side except to fetch her a cup to fill with water, which she had attempted to drink but failed, far too quickly overcome with another wave of the nausea.

"It was your idea to order out Thai, you know," she pointed out as she leaned her head against the cool tile wall, closing her eyes with a soft moan.

"Yeah, but I didn't force you to eat it, now did I. And who burned the Mac n' cheese in the first place?"

She mumbled incoherently until he gently pulled her back into his arms, and then she murmured loud enough for him to understand, "I was trying to make your favorite meal..."

"Shh... I know sweetheart, I know... I was teasing..."

She nodded weakly, her stomach aching. She clumsily pushed him away and leaned over the porcelain again, but nothing came up and she sank weakly down to the ground again.

"There's no way you're going into work like this, Bones. Come on, I'll get you all set up in the bedroom, and make you some soup or something."

"It's too early for soup," she mumbled in complaint, but still got numbly to her feet with his help, and allowed him to help her back into their bedroom. She was never sick; it felt so unusual that she wasn't really sure how to handle it. This wasn't something she could fight, it was something that she had to wait out. And she hated that.

But she supposed the important part was that Booth was there. If she'd gotten sick and they hadn't resolved things between them...

She was just grateful that they had. Having him right there, holding her arm and guiding her onto the soft mattress, tucking her in with infinite care... right now, she felt loved. And that feeling was one she certainly wouldn't get tired of. She smiled lazily at him as he leaned against the doorway, looking back at her.

"You have to call... Cam. Make sure Ange knows... about everything."

She was barely awake enough to see him nod in agreement before she tiredly let her eyelids droop and slid back into comfortable sleep.

* * *

When she next opened her eyes, she sat up with much greater ease than she'd been expecting, and blinked around at the room. Slivers of sunlight drifted in through the curtains, intensified by the reflections from the snow that she knew blanketed the ground. She'd heard weather reports the day before, but had forgotten until that moment that they'd been expecting a rather large storm.

Surprisingly, her stomach was grumbling in protest at her lack of food intake. The clock informed her that it was past noon, and clearly she was feeling the effects of a missed breakfast and what was most definitely an empty stomach.

Booth's head appeared around the corner before she could get up or call to him, even though she hadn't planned on the latter, and he grinned as he saw her sitting up and alert.

"Sleeping Beauty awakes at last!" he crowed cheerfully, walking over with a box of crackers and a glass of water. He handed her the drink and then popped open the box, offering it to her after she'd taken several grateful gulps of the cold liquid.

"Mm, thanks," she said as she accepted the offer. "We don't have any peanut butter, do we?"

"Well, you didn't before I started doing the shopping, but thankfully my 'unhealthy attitude' enjoys the 'fattening' product. We've got a big jar of Skippy in their somewhere. Be back in a flash. Need anything else while I'm up?"

"No, that should be good," she said, munching on another cracker.

When he returned, they took turns spreading the gooey peanut butter onto crackers, laughing like they were kids again as crumbs spilled ceaselessly onto the clean bedspread.

"I'm going to have to clean this later," she said with a sigh, but her eyes were still sparkling with laughter, and so were his.

"Eh, I'll help. Not a big deal. Hey, you still up for that soup? I think I might have some, too. I made it earlier, while you were sleeping."

"You didn't have-"

"But I wanted to. Can you make it to the kitchen, or do you want to have it in here?"

"I hardly intend to spend the entire day trapped in this bed. And besides, I feel much better now. Move over so I can get up. You're practically sitting on top of my leg."

Despite her protests, he insisted on helping her out of the bed, and then rested a hand lightly on her back even though it was a ridiculously short journey down the hallway and through the door to the kitchen. She climbed easily onto the bar stool at the counter, and Booth wasted no time in ladling the soup into bowls and sliding them into the microwave to reheat. As the old appliance buzzed cheerfully in the background, he leaned forward over the counter and grinned at her.

"So, I'm assuming that now you're going to insist that you are perfectly capable of going to work tomorrow? Just a _minor_ case of food poisoning?"

"Yes, that is correct. I could probably still make it in today, to be honest, and I just-"

The ringing phone cut her off, and she reached for it before Booth could.

"Brennan."

"Sweetie! Thank goodness. Cam told me you were sick, and I've been trying your phone all morning to no avail, and Cam said something about Booth being the one to call it in for you, so I just wanted to make sure I was right and things went well last night... and of course I wanted to give you time to sleep in since you were so _sick_..."

She rolled her eyes, even though her friend couldn't see her. "Ange, you know very well that I don't fake illnesses to stay in bed all day." Booth was grinning across at her, and she offered a playful smile in return as she continued. "No matter how tempting that might normally sound."

There was a pause. "Okay, so what I'm getting here is that things went really well... but you somehow ended up too sick to come in today?"

Before she could object, Booth had slid the phone skillfully out of her hand and pressed it up to his ear. "Hey, Ange. Bones tried to burn down her place making Mac n' cheese for yours truly, and apparently the Thai place is no longer trustworthy for safe food."

"Booth!" she protested, reaching to grab it back.

"Well hello, Booth," Ange said cheerfully. Brennan could still hear her friend's voice, and realized that Booth had probably heard both sides of her conversation as well. "Nice to see things worked out well last night. Bren _is_ alright, isn't she?"

"I threw up this morning and I feel fine now," she said, loudly enough that she knew her friend would pick up on it. "Booth doesn't want to let me come in tomorrow either."

"Good for him. You two have a lot of catching up to do, I'm sure."

"That also happens to be none of your business," Booth said lightly, a teasing note in his voice as his eyes sparkled mischievously across at her. "So I don't expect you to be popping by unexpectedly. I'm sure me and Bones can entertain ourselves just fine. Besides, I heard the roads were murder this morning."

"They were. Hodgins wanted to make us stay home, too, but Cam called and told us that you and Bren weren't coming in at all, and that she'd need _someone_ to do work. I hope Brennan's alright, though. I know you'll take good care of her, of course. Hodgins has been going practically crazy since I started in with the morning sickness a while back, so I know you can't be much better when Bren's not feeling at the top of her game, but I-"

His eyes were suddenly locked with hers, his mouth slightly open. Ange was still talking, but it was clear he wasn't listening.

"Hey, Ange?" she stopped short in surprise, "I have to go. See you tomorrow. Maybe." He hung up without waiting for an answer, and then set the phone delicately on the counter. Her mouth had gone dry, having heard everything that was said and having realized the same thing as him the moment it was out of Angela's mouth. If her friend hadn't figured it out by now, with her ability to understand people, she would within in a few minutes. Brennan just hoped she wouldn't call back. She suddenly didn't feel like talking.

Unless it was with him, and clearly, at the moment, he felt exactly the same way.

"Bones, you don't think that-"

"I don't know," she cut him off. In her mind, she was trying to count days, but she kept getting lost, and as she closed her eyes to think more clearly, she knew that it wasn't going to be successful. Since when did she lose track of anything? How had she not _noticed?_ "I... it is a very... likely scenario," she phrased carefully.

Age old fears crept to the front of her mind. Her eyes were still closed, not daring to look at him and see his expression. They had never gone in depth about this topic before. It had been one of those things that she had seen in the future, and she'd assumed he felt the same way. For it to happen so soon... it left her breathless, and she couldn't imagine him doing much better. What would he think? How were they going to do this? Surely, he hadn't planned on-

And suddenly warm arms were around her and she gasped as her eyes flew open, seeing only the fabric of his light shirt. She pressed herself more fully against him, sighing out in relief as she let the tension leave her shoulders.

"We don't know for sure," he murmured comfortingly, but his words had the opposite effect. Almost immediately, she felt the panic return in a raging flood of emotion, and she slipped away from him. He regarded her with concern as she swiped quickly at her eyes, ashamed of the tears that welled so easily up in them. "Hey, shh... it's okay," he said gently as he stepped towards her again, but this time she backed several steps away, effectively stopping him in his tracks. His arms fell at his sides. "Bones, talk to me," he pleaded, "What's wrong? I mean... obviously we weren't expecting this, but unless we know that we're right, we can't really take the next step at all, can we?"

"Do you..." she closed her eyes, taking in a few slow and controlled breaths of cool air. "I need to know what you think of this, Booth," she said softly. Her eyes flicked to his and then away again.

She could see him soften even though she only had a view from the corner of her eye.

"Oh, Bones," he whispered. This time, when he pulled her into his arms she didn't fight him. "Of course I want this," he said in her ear, his breath tickling her skin. "Bones, baby, I've been dreaming about this for years. I just want to make sure this is what _you_ want. Because we're in this together, and don't you dare think anything else."

She let out the breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding, and the wrapped her arms tightly around him and held him to her, tears sliding freely down her face. She wasn't even sure where the emotion was coming from, and at that moment she didn't care. She chose to ignore the endearment he had labeled her with.

"We need to know," she said immediately as she loosened her hold on him. He allowed her to slip away, but kept his arms rested loosely around her. His lopsided grin slid across his face, making her smile in response, and then he kissed her lips warmly.

"Yeah, Bones, we need to know. And if we _are_ pregnant..."

"If _I_ am pregnant," she corrected.

"We, Bones, it's always a we," he reminded her gently, his eyes twinkling. "If _we_ are going to have a baby... well then, I'll be the happiest man in the world. And I really hope, more than anything, that you'll feel the same way."

She laughed, "I was more worried that you wouldn't," she informed him.

He stared at her incredulously. "Bones, why on earth wouldn't I love the idea of having a family with you? A little version of you and me scampering around... trying to set the house on fire with some chemistry set or other..."

She laughed again, this time at the image he presented in her head, and then lifted her hand up to bring his lips down to hers once again. "We should go and... buy a test," she suggested as they broke apart, foreheads leaned together and both sets of eyes sparkling brightly.

He nodded quickly, and then grabbed the keys, speaking before she could protest. "You, Bones, were already sick this morning, and you might very well have a little life growing in there," he added as he playfully poked her stomach. "I'm driving."

She rolled her eyes, but didn't argue.

* * *

"We shouldn't stare at it, Booth," she said as they both stood beside the counter, the little stick rested on the side of the sink. "It won't make it indicate in either direction any quicker. And it might drive us both crazy."

He nodded reluctantly, but didn't seem willing to leave the room. Instead, he turned to face her, his eyes filled with warmth, but a few flickers of doubt creeping at the edges.

"If it's positive, Bones-"

"Then we'll figure out where we go from there," she said firmly, restating what he'd told her earlier.

"No, Bones, that wasn't what I was going to say. I need you to know that this is all going to work out. That we will have a beautiful little son or daughter, and we'll figure out that whole parenting thing together, through the challenges that it's sure to present."

"You have a son," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but I wasn't there at two in the morning. Rebecca didn't want me to be there, and I wasn't. This is going to be entirely new to me, just like it will be to you."

"You have _some_ experience," she insisted.

"Changing diapers, yeah, Bones. And feeding... all the typical stuff. But there's a lot of this that we're going to have to learn together. And I'm not going to miss one minute of it."

She didn't hesitate this time with her answer. "We're going to do this," she agreed with a firm nod. "If, of course, I'm actually pregnant." She nodded toward the test, which was still yet to change colors.

She knew already, though, that she was. Could tell without having to have it confirmed... and that was a strange feeling for her. But one that seemed completely rational, which, truly, was irrational. But she wasn't going to get herself lost in that mind twist.

She was also quite aware of that fear that filtered along the outer edges of her thoughts. The unknown was always something she was concerned over. All her experiences in life, everything that she set out to do, had warded off uncertainty for such a long time that this large and mysterious happening was not something she was ready to easily adjust to. Booth telling her that he didn't know everything was at first concerning, because she had been expecting that he would be able to tell her what to do, and help her learn the necessary skills, but then she'd realized that he _wanted_ it to be like that. The way his eyes shone when he said those things to her... he wanted this to be the first time he made the journey. He wanted it to be with _her_. And that had the power to wipe away almost all of her doubts and fears entirely.

As she had been lost in thought, Booth's eyes had strayed back to the test, and her eyes snapped to him as he snatched it up and held it out to her.

"Who gets to tell Angela?" he said, his eyes sparkling and his smile spreading further across his face than she'd ever seen it. And then she was so tightly engulfed in his embrace that she didn't feel the need to think anymore... only to feel, and to revel in the wonder of what the future might present to them now. Together once more.

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**Okay, show of hands... how many of you were expecting that? And exactly how obvious was the 'food poisoning' scenario?**

**Oh, and a quick note: I'm either going to end up doing a lot of research about babies and pregnancy... or we're going to skip a great deal of the next... seven or so months. And I haven't decided yet exactly when she got pregnant, but I'm going to go with it probably being around late November/December-ish. **


	30. Chapter 30

**Miss me? Writer's block showed up for a while, and I realized why. I hope to get back to updating regularly on this again soon. **

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For some reason, Booth insisted on her remaining at home the next day. She'd argued again and again that clearly there was nothing physically wrong with her other than the obvious, which was actually a normal human function anyways, and so she should get back to her job as soon as possible... but he seemed to have turned a deaf ear each and every time. He'd taken Tuesday off with her, citing 'personal reasons' to his boss, and was now seated beside her on the couch, pestering her.

"Are you sure you don't want to watch a movie, Bones? Or eat something? You barely had any breakfast, you know."

"I thought you were paranoid about my well-being before," she muttered as she rolled her eyes. Apparently it was possible for it to get worse. She didn't even want to think about how things would go once they were back at work. She could just imagine him tailing Cam around the lab, peppering her with questions about the safety of certain chemicals used in the lab, and trying to get her hours cut...

She decided she didn't want to think about it. Having someone concerned about her was a nice feeling, after so long going about everything alone. Having them constantly blocking her off to 'protect' her was another matter.

"When should we tell everyone?" she cut him off as he started in on asking her if she was comfortable on the couch or not.

He stopped short in surprise. "Well... I know that you're technically supposed to wait twenty weeks, but I highly doubt Angela will remain clueless forever. Heck, she might even be guessing at it right now."

"And besides that, we don't even know how long I've been pregnant for," she pointed out.

"Which is why we are getting you a doctors appointment pronto," he replied smoothly. "Have you decided if you want to find out whether it's a boy or a girl yet?"

"It would certainly help with planning," she said thoughtfully. "And it would give us more time to think about names."

He beamed widely at that second concept. "Names," he repeated with a gleam in his eyes, "What do you think so far, any ideas?"

"Booth, we've known we're going to have a baby for about twenty-seven hours. Hardly efficient time to even think about something like that. It's quite a ways down the road, anyways."

He shrugged, "Still, it might be fun."

"Did you get to help pick Parker's name?"

His smile faltered slightly, but he still nodded and answered. "Yeah. Actually, I picked it myself. Named him after a buddy from the war."

"Oh." She didn't know what else to say; from the way he'd just said it, she could tell that it wasn't a cheerful memory. She wondered if this was the friend Booth had been trying to shield, when he'd received the injuries to his ribs, or if it was another instance altogether. She judged that it probably wasn't safe to directly ask such a question. "Do you... want to talk about it?" she asked cautiously instead.

He shrugged and looked away... she took that for a no, and bit her lip. There were still some things that separated them... but that was okay. They weren't supposed to be perfect. She didn't like talking much about her past; of course he didn't like discussing his.

But today wasn't a time to be talking about the past. It was a time to be thinking about the future.

"What are we going to do about Parker?" she asked suddenly, realizing that her apartment wouldn't be exactly easy residence for four.

"Don't worry," Booth chuckled. "He'll be _thrilled_. I'm sure he'd love a brother, although he'd probably be just as happy with a little sister."

She nodded, "I figured, but that's not what I meant, actually. We'll need to convert the guest room into a room suitable for a baby, won't we?"

"Oh, right," he said with a frown. "Uhh..." he scowled and stared at the ceiling.

She glanced up as well, and then grinned teasingly, "You aren't going to find an answer up there, I don't think, Booth."

He chuckled. "Y'know what, Bones, we'll figure it out when we get there, alright? That seems to have worked out fine for us over the years, after all."

She couldn't suppress a responding laugh. "Very good point."

"Now, what do you say you and I go find some lunch?"

"I think I made it fairly clear that I wasn't hungry."

"Aw, c'mon. We'll get some fries and pie at the Diner, and you can have... pudding or something, if you really don't want a meal."

She shrugged, "I suppose that is an... acceptable suggestion."

* * *

"If it isn't my favorite couple," said a cheerful voice. They both looked up from their opposite sides of the booth to find Angela strolling over to them, wearing a white blouse and a red skirt that was just a tad too bright for the current dreary weather they were facing. Without inviting herself, she slid in beside Brennan and helped herself to a fry from the plate in the middle of the table.

"Ange," Booth said warningly, but she just grinned cheerfully and turned her attention to Brennan.

"Funny seeing you two here. I was on my lunch break." If she had actually come here on her lunch break _without_ the hopes of finding them, then they had entered an alternate dimension. "So, anything new?" she prompted.

They looked at each other, and she felt herself wondering if this was a reasonable time to just tell the truth. Somehow, it didn't feel like it was... _theirs_ yet, all of this that was happening. She didn't want it to be someone else's already, when she wasn't even adjusted. But Booth was watching her calmly, waiting for her to make the decision.

"No," she said to Angela with a firm shake of her head. "I feel much better, though."

"I see," her friend said, a doubtful edge tinting her dark eyes. But she didn't comment further, seeming to somehow understand the situation. "We've got a new case, if that interests you."

Brennan shot him a surprised look. He hadn't said anything about a new case. "What about the other one that we were working, the Caucasian female with the-?"

"Yeah, apparently that got pushed to the side."

"What exactly was so important that it got sent straight to the Jeffersonian without me knowing about-" his phone buzzed with an incoming message, and he snatched it out of his pocket and read quickly through whatever it was, his eyes hardening. "Right. Ange, why don't you head back to work. Bones and I are going to finish up our food here."

Something in his tone must have resounded with her, because she just nodded and quickly got back to her feet. "I'll... see both of you later?"

"Yeah. We'll be at the lab in a few."

She nodded, her eyes filled with concern, and then turned and left them there alone.

"Booth, what's going on?" she asked immediately, leaning forward over the table, their food entirely forgotten.

"Do you remember Tim Sampson?"

She stiffened. "Of course." It was hard to forget the obnoxious reporter that had followed her around for a month about her books before she'd gotten a restraining order. But that had been well over a year ago.

"He's dead."

* * *

"What do we know so far?" Brennan said as she climbed the stairs to her platform, tying her hair up in a ponytail as she went. The alarm was barely disabled by Booth's card before she was past it and standing next to the lab table where a set of remains lay neatly. Completely bone; not a trace of decomposed tissue. "Have these been cleaned?" she asked, spinning to confront the FBI technicians that were over at Hodgins station being lectured, already, for poor soil collection.

"We found them _exactly_ like that after we got called in by a couple that was hiking and stumbled across them," a young agent said in exasperation. "Listen, we've done our part. We have other cases that need attention."

"Go on, get out of here," Booth said, waving them away and then turning his full attention to the squint squad. "What have we got?" he asked, seeing as no one had answered Brennan's initial question.

"Not much," Ange said, being the first one to speak up, seeing as Cam was in her office busy with whatever paperwork this had already shoved at her, and Hodgins was still laboring over his samples. Nigel was no where to be seen.

"How do we even know that this is Mr. Sampson?"

"Because of this," Hodgins answered, apparently having been listening to everything despite his eyes being glued to a microscope. He picked up an evidence bag and carried it over. "The absolute only thing on the body at all."

"And they took it off?" she asked incredulously as she accepted the bag.

"Apparently it was sitting neatly on top, so I let them off the hook."

She nodded, but the frown didn't go away as she held the thin bag up to the light to study what was inside. A driver's license picture, cut up so that only the picture was present, and no other information."

"We ran it through the computer as soon as it arrived, and checked for prints, too," Hodgins informed them. "Completely clean, but it gave us the identity. Do you two... know him?" he added, pausing slightly as he allowed a pointing finger to switch back and forth between them, his eyes wide and questioning as he took in their expressions.

"Unfortunately," Booth growled. Brennan ignored the conversation and set down the evidence bag, moving forward to lean over the lab table as she reached for gloves and snapped them on before lifting up an ulna and examining it.

"He was following you, and now he's _dead_?" Ange said loudly, pulling her attention back as she delicately set the bone back onto the cold surface.

"He _used_ to be following me," she corrected. "I haven't seen him since I got a restraining order last February."

Booth pushed Angela out of the way and took over the computer as he began hurriedly typing and pulling up information. The artist leaned over his shoulder with a frown which rapidly changed into an expression of alarm.

"Where was the body found?" Booth asked instantly as he turned and fixed Hodgins with his piercing gaze.

The entomologist stumbled over his words as he snatched up a file and began flipping through it. Impatiently, Booth snatched it away and found pictures of the scene and a map depicting the location. He dropped it back on the table with a slap, swearing under his breath.

"Booth?" she asked worriedly, moving around the table to see what was on the computer screen. He provided the answer before she could find it for herself though.

"You took out the restraining order on February 8th, Bones."

She frowned, not seeing the relevance, and then her eyes widened. "That's today."

"Yeah, exactly. And you know what else? That body was in plain view of a well-used hiking trail. And this week that particular area was holding a nature convention or something. Plenty of people with camp fires and such camping out in the snow for god-knows what reason."

"The body was planted... so that we would know about it today specifically," she murmured, her eyes straying back to the skeleton. "Ange, I need you to do a face reconstruction. We have to find out if this is actually Sampson, or if something else is going on here."

"I'll get on it," Ange said with a nod, her eyes still wide. She snatched a sketch pad and pulled a chair up to a free table, getting a package of erasers from a drawer. Brennan placed the skull down in front of her along with a pair of gloves that her friend reluctantly pulled on, and then turned back to the rest of the team. "Where's Dr. Nigel-Murray?"

"Not sure, actually," Hodgins said with a frown.

She sighed. "Well, somebody try to get in contact with him. Booth, could you... fill Cam in on what's going on? I want to get started on figuring out what killed this man."

They both nodded, not arguing with her business-like tone as they hurried off on their allotted tasks. For a moment, it felt like everything was the way it had been towards the beginning of their work together as a team. Her clearly in charge, dictating what was to be done. She had been spending more and more time away from the lab lately... she'd missed this part of who she was.

And with this latest case, on top of her personal life and the changes that were charging at her now... she was sure she'd need every one of her strengths to figure it all out.

* * *

***Gasp* Could that be a... plot? Could this story actually have a POINT?? **

**Yeah, that's why I was having a hard time writing. Apparently I was boring myself to death with my own writing. I hope I wasn't boring all of you as well, lol. This story is actually going to get interesting again! (or atleast, I hope you'll find it interesting)**

**Just a warning, though. If I happen to not update again within a week... it might not have anything to do with writer's block. It might have a lot to do with the terrifying prospect of the upcoming AP US History test, though. So you can blame that. **

**But hey, after May 7th... I'll have my life back. And I'll have all the time I like to write :)  
**


	31. Chapter 31

They had obtained the warrant to search Sampson's house at last. It had taken longer than she would have liked, even though Angela had been quick with her reconstruction, and it had easily matched up with Sampson. She had double checked it several times, already, and had confirmed that the structure definitely matched up with his. There was no way they were wrong.

Hodgins was lamenting the lack of samples, but Cam seemed to be the most at a loss for what to do. With Brennan so clearly in charge of the team, and no flesh or internal organs for her to analyze, she was standing around for the most part, and trying to help with ideas. Her and Booth had been tossing theories off each other most of that morning, which had been good because she didn't want any distractions from what she was trying to do.

It turned out that Nigel had been called north for a family emergency, and they were out of luck as far as he went in helping them. For this one, she was on her own. It wasn't that she wasn't capable, just that an extra set of hands and eyes would have been greatly appreciated.

She found herself missing Zach more than she had at all recently. She sighed softly as she tried to keep her focus on the bones as well as on what Booth was doing. The warrant had come in, after all, and they would surely be leaving any minute to go investigate Sampson's house.

Finally, she heard Booth start to shift away towards the stairs, and she straightened up, placing the bones neatly back in their places, and stripped off her gloves.

"Ready to go?" she asked as she moved away from the body.

"Uh... yeah, about that," he murmured, glancing at the others and then gently taking hold of her arm as he led her down from the platform and over to the doors, where they could talk quietly and not be overheard. "Bones, I'm not sure you should be coming with me."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, Bones, I'm dead serious. Do you remember what happened with Lemaire?"

She glared. "And the chances of that happening again are ridiculous. We aren't even looking for a live person; we're looking around an abandoned home!"

"For all we know, he had an accomplice or something."

"An accomplice for _what_? Last time I checked, he was the victim here!" Her voice was rising, but she didn't care.

"Victim, yeah, sure. But overall, he's a pawn in something a hell of a lot bigger than him. I'm not risking something happening to you. _Especially_ not now."

She gritted her teeth. "I'm not hiding in the lab. Why you would even think that is beyond me. I'm going wherever it is you're going. If it's dangerous, then why do you get to go in?"

"Because I have a gun, and I'm a trained special agent," he said, his tone turning patient... which only irritated her further. Just because she was pregnant, she didn't need to change every aspect of her life. She would do anything to protect the unborn life inside of her... but she was _not_ going to allow herself to be coddled to this ridiculous level that he seemed to have envisioned.

"Then give me a gun," she snapped. "I know multiple types of martial arts and self-defense. I'm perfectly capable of protecting myself. And _yes_, that does mean I'm capable of protecting _both_ of us," she added in a hiss. She knew he'd know what she meant.

He seemed to hesitate, "Fine," he sighed, "But we _are_ going to set a specific date that you're going to start keeping yourself in the lab full time. Because you are _not_ coming to crime scenes in seven months."

She rolled her eyes. "Obviously. Now come on, let's go." She didn't doubt that she wasn't going to enjoy being trapped indoors with a variety of unpleasant pregnancy-induced symptoms, but for now she wasn't going to worry about it. There were things going on right now that were much more immediate.

According to the doctor that she had visited, Booth insisting on holding her hand the whole time for some reason, she was due on August 14th. There was still plenty of time to get prepared.

It was a twenty minute ride over to Sampson's house, and they discussed the case for most of the trip, rather than personal matters. He'd apparently gotten the hint that she didn't want to be considered disabled, or treated any differently. She was glad.

"So, have you had _any_ reporters after you recently, that I didn't know about? Even if it was just one quick question, or something you saw as insignificant, it might help."

"Nothing," she said with a sigh. "I mean, I got a few emails, but they were all through my agent and my publisher... all the people that are involved directly with me on a regular basis about my books anyways."

"And since... last May?"

"We'd have to talk to my agent," she said, staring out the window as they stopped at a red light. She was slightly annoyed that he hadn't let her drive. "She handles everything like that. After I made it clear that I didn't want to talk about anything that had happened, or give a statement... she backed off. But I'm sure she was asked a lot of questions about me and... why I was keeping out of the public eye. Not that I was ever in it to begin with, but... y'know."

He nodded, a sad light in his eyes. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

"You don't think someone's been... interested in _that_, do you?"

"Bones, that's what I'm most worried about right now. Whoever this is, they might have seen this as some sort of... competition. They could be deranged, and fighting for a..." he swallowed and gripped the steering wheel. "A story," he managed to choke out.

She nodded thoughtfully, trying not to let the exact words get to her. This was an objective conversation. She needed to make it about something besides herself, or she would never be able to focus properly.

"That does make sense. I mean... I am relatively well known. What happened to me... it could be a big break for a small reporter to get his name out there."

Booth winced, and she knew exactly how he felt. She didn't much like the idea either... that someone would think of her suffering as a way to gain something for themselves. It seemed wrong, and it hurt. But yet, it was the truth; there were people out there who would do it. And whatever had gone on here, with Sampson... at least some part of it had to be related to her.

"Do you think Sampson gave up after I filed the restraining order? I didn't see him around at all after I got it, but I wasn't paying much attention after... everything."

"Well, we'll find out in a second, I'm sure," Booth said grimly as he stopped the vehicle in front of a small blue house with an unruly yard. Clearly, no one had been taking care of the place since... well, whenever Sampson had gone missing. "I'd appreciate if you kept an eye out, and stayed behind me until I clear the place, okay?" he said as they got out and made their way up the walk.

"Fine," she agreed begrudgingly, but kept close behind him as he rapped on the door, called out the usual demands for it to be opened, and then stepped back and used his shoulder to bust it open. They both listened in the following silence, but there was no sounds of breaking glass, or running footsteps. Cautiously, they made their way into the entrance hallway.

"Stay by the door," he said firmly as he bent down and pulled a gun from his ankle, passing it to her. "Do _not_ get trigger-happy," he hissed, his eyes serious. "Because if you see someone, it will probably be _me_ coming back."

He vanished into the next room, and she watched as he pointed his gun in the corners, yanked open a closet door, and then made his way through to the adjoining room.

She wanted very much to take the door to the right and begin her own sweep of the house, but she decided against it. He wouldn't be pleased, and he'd probably redo the rooms that she checked anyways, just to be sure for himself. But she wasn't going to just stand idle. She headed into the room to the left, which he had already cleared, and began to look at the items that were present there.

Nothing seemed very personal; there was furniture facing an old and beat up television set, and tables with small decorations. Everything was covered in a thick coat of dust. Silently, she followed the route she'd seen Booth take, bringing her into what appeared to be a dining room of sorts. Nothing extraordinary.

Down a hallway, she found herself in a bedroom, and then a small bathroom. A door and a tight corner brought her into a tiny kitchen.

"Bones?" she heard his voice calling from the other side of a wall. She headed for the nearest door, and found herself in a small and empty room. A shadow was visible in the doorway leading back to the entrance hall, and she tensed slightly until she was certain it was Booth.

"Right here," she said. He spun around in surprise, and then exhaled a deep breath.

"I thought I told you to _stay put_," he said irritably. She shrugged, and began to look around the dusty room. Why was it so empty? Surely it must have had some purpose... there weren't even boxes of storage piled in the corners, as she might have expected of a spare and useless room.

"Where does that go?" she said, pointing up to a trap door in the corner of the ceiling. Immediately he was at her side, staring up at it as well.

"We're going to find out," he said stiffly, and then stepped into the adjoining room and grabbed a chair, putting it to the side of the door. He would have climbed up, but she easily beat him to it.

"Your back," she said by way of explanation, and then undid the latch. He stood to the ready, gun aimed, but the only thing that greeted them was a very large cloud of dust. They both coughed uncontrollably for a short while, guns still drawn, and then she hoisted herself lightly up through the hole in the ceiling, making use of her martial arts training as she twisted herself and used her upper body strength to lever her body into the small attic space.

"Careful," he warned. "...What do you see?"

She fumbled around a moment, and then found a dangling string that she pulled. A dull light bulb, coated in dust, flickered on over her head, revealing a sight that had her speechless for a long moment.

"Me," she finally whispered, her eyes huge and her mouth hanging slightly open as she stared around in half-shock, half-horror, at the crowded little space, half-stooped to avoid the slanting ceiling. "There are... there are a _lot_ of pictures of... me."

* * *

**I'm not a big fan of this chapter overall, because it didn't flow as well as I would have liked... but I'll let you all tell me what you thought. **


	32. Chapter 32

**Another chapter! Don't expect one next week, because of how busy I'm going to be, but I'm eager to continue :)**

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"Move out of the way; I'm coming up," Booth said, staring up at her. After an initial moment of shock on both their parts, he had started looking around for a way to get himself up into the attic with her, to see whatever it was she was seeing. Finding a ladder in the hall closet, probably for this purpose exactly, he had dragged it out and propped it up, leading into the darkened space overhead.

As he climbed upwards, he saw her move away from the opening. When he carefully stood, keeping his head low in the small space, he could only stare around, his face hiding most of the alarm he was feeling inside.

The back wall, the only vertical surface, was papered entirely with photographs. In all of them, she was alone. They were from a distance, and some were of her at the Diner, others of her getting in her car at either the lab or the apartment, and more focused on simply her face, making it hard to tell the location. In almost all of them, she was either smiling or clearly troubled, and they seemed to have been sorted to distinguish the difference. There was no in-between expression to be found.

"This is..." he shook his head, not sure what word to use.

"Creepy," she whispered, stepping into a dark corner where there appeared to be a gathering of bulletin boards. She pulled the front one out into the light, and they both stared at it. The top was labeled neatly 'February 2009,' and it was covered in images, newspaper clippings, magazine articles, and copies of official documents. "He was following everything I did," she whispered in awe.

"Yeah," Booth growled, reaching forward to pull out the next board. "I don't like it."

She simply shook her head, but he knew that she meant that she was equally upset about the whole thing. If not more... after all, this was her face that surrounded them. It was unnerving for _him_... it must be something a hell of a lot more for _her_.

"March," she murmured as they both took in the next, similarly set-up arrangement of papers.

Dreading what he knew was coming, he pulled out first April, and then May... which turned out to be 'May P.1.' A second bulletin board, pulled out after it with shaking hands, showed exactly what he hadn't wanted to see.

Half the board was covered with documents and print-outs detailing the lack of information about what had happened to Brennan, as well as pages from her website with the official announcements about her giving 'no comment' on what had happened. The other half was completely filled with images of Bones, and in almost every one of them she was either crying or at the very least upset and tired looking. Her breath caught next to him as she stared at the images, and he moved to push it out of her line of view. Just as quickly, though, she reached out a hand to stop him, and then pulled it more into the light to stare at the pictures with wide eyes. He felt his heart tearing with agony as she bit her lip, her eyes flicking from image to image rapidly, settling sometimes on certain ones before moving on hurriedly.

"Bones..." he murmured carefully, but she just shook her head and ignored the hand that he rested gently on her shoulder.

"How did we not know?" she whispered at last. "How did we not... how did _I_ not know someone was watching me? I should have... I should have been able to..."

"Bones, you couldn't have known. Neither of us could have. He... he took all those shots from a distance, and he obviously kept himself well-hidden." She nodded numbly, apparently not seeing any flaws in that logic. But her eyes remained on the board, finally landing on a particular image and staying there as a tear traced a slow path down her face.

Following her line of sight, he saw exactly which one she was looking at.

She was in her car, probably at a red light, and the window was rolled down so that the view of her was unobstructed. Booth gritted his teeth at the thought, but focused on the rest of the details. Her hands were clenched on the steering wheel, and her face... she was clearly crying, tears rolling down her cheeks and her hair hanging loosely around her face, falling helplessly out of a hasty ponytail. She was biting her lip, hard, and staring straight ahead like it was the most important thing in the world. Maybe at that moment, it had been.

Gently, he pulled her away, to her feet, and her eyes finally turned to him and slowly focused on his face before he pulled her into his arms and rocked them both back and forth slowly. "It's okay, Bones. It's okay..." he soothed in her ear as he felt a faint sob shake her shoulders.

"He had no right," she choked out. "He... he had no _right_ to see... to take these... to... to..."

"I know, baby, I know... it's all okay now... he's gone..."

She pulled away from him and then shakily nodded her head, wiping away the tears that had leaked out. "I know," she whispered.

But then her eyes flashed with sudden fear as she asked quietly, "Booth... what about whoever killed Sampson?"

* * *

"C'mon, Sweets," Booth said with a sigh, leaning against one of the rafters as he watched the psychologist wandering around and looking at all the pictures that decorated the room. Bones was back at the lab, where she was begrudgingly involving herself in the forensic work while the FBI handled the scene. Mostly, he hadn't wanted her here, with all these pictures of... her.

"I'm getting a feel for the creator of this," the shrink said distractedly, bending down to look with particular interest at the bulletin board depicting the second half of May. Booth clenched his fists and gritted his teeth.

"Sure you aren't just doing some research of your own?" he questioned, stepping forward and none-too-gently pulling Sweets upright and away from the pictures. "I need a profile, and I need it fast, okay? What would have prompted someone else to kill this guy?"

"Honestly? I can tell you right now that these... collages... well, they weren't made by Sampson."

"...What?"

"At least," Sweets amended hastily, "Not Sampson _alone_. Do you see the difference here?" He pointed first to the row of bulletin boards that the agents had arranged along the rafters to take their photographic evidence, and then at the back wall. Without waiting for an answer, he hurried on, "There's a _major_ difference in organization. Someone who was thinking clearly, and planning ahead, arranged these bulletin boards in a very specific, almost OCD, manner. Whoever put these pictures on the back wall, however, was acting more out of passion than out of anything else. They placed the most important images in the clearest line of sight, and at the center." He indicated the large picture of Brennan that was the focus of the collage, one of her smiling and directly facing the camera. It looked like a photo that might have been taken for one of her books, or at some publicity event. "This has very high importance to him. As do these two," he pointed simultaneously to the pictures on either side, a bit smaller, but still clearly focuses amidst the much smaller surrounding images. In both, Brennan appeared to be laughing, her smile wide, and she was staring off camera. She was wearing the same outfit as she was in the first picture; a red blouse that cut low enough to reveal just a hint of cleavage. She had one of her clunky necklaces around her neck, and earrings that he instantly recognized as being the ones that she had worn in New Orleans all those years ago.

"Another point is the contrast," he added. "This was artistically put together. You can see that the images with a darker focus are the ones in which Brennan seems unhappy, while the ones that are brighter are those where she is clearly pleased. And they've been placed so that the darker images are on the outside, while the light ones fill the center."

_"Artistic?"_ Booth asked.

"Yes. Creepy, of course, but still artistic. There's no way the same person did these two very different collage sets."

"But Sampson did _one_, right?"

Sweets frowned at that. "Presumably, since as far as we know he lived alone... yes. But I'll have to look more around the house itself, and since you didn't give me very much time to do that before you dragged me up here..."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just... help us figure this out, okay? I'm... worried about her."

Sweets nodded and gave him a small smile. "I know, Booth. You always are... and often with very good reason."

He gave a wry smile and nodded. "You aren't kidding." The faint humor faded away quickly though, as he continued, "But, y'know, Sweets... all I want to do is make sure that she's safe through... whatever this is that's going on."

"I don't blame you," Sweets said agreeably as he turned his attention back to the objects they had been studying. "Right. What I also wanted to tell you, before we finish up here, is that I doubt these two were working together." Booth raised an eyebrow in interest, as well as confusion, and Sweets hurried on, "They are very separate entities, and if I've got this right, and Sampson was the first stalker to use this... lair of sorts... then he made the bulletin boards. He was a reporter, right? It makes sense for his persona to have started off attacking the problem methodically, to decide what was important, what would best suit the interests of readers... etcetera, etcetera. But you can see that his interest changed, right after Dr. Brennan was assaulted." He pointed to the May boards. "While previously they were decorated with articles about her work, and her career... following what happened he became obsessed with finding out the truth. The pictures start becoming close-up and personal, and the few written things that he has are hastily scrawled down notes, or stuff released about what happened which, obviously, didn't give much as far as the details.

"And here," he went on, pointing to a picture of the two of them, "This is an analysis of your relationship. He was trying to figure out what your role in the whole thing was. There are little messages about it everywhere... some of the pictures towards July start to be of just you."

He had noticed that, and it had... well, creeped him out a little. But he would be lying if he said he wouldn't prefer to see his own face in all of these than hers. He could deal with a threat against himself. He could _not_ deal with one against her.

"What I need to know here, though, is if he had something against her, or for her, or whatever. Was he _dangerous_?"

"From all the indicators... he was obsessed. But whether or not he would hurt her is another matter. What I see him doing here is not so much identifying with her as seeing her as an object. Generally, stalkers that eventually kidnap or kill their victims form an attachment with them. They convince themselves that they are in love, and that the person they are following loves them just as passionately. When they make an approach, if they're turned down they respond in the only way they can to get control of the situation."

"But you _don't_ think that Sampson was that type of stalker?"

Sweets shook his head. "No, but I don't doubt that he would have gladly found out every detail of what she went through and published it just to get his name out to the public. He was endlessly egotistical, but also reserved and afraid of judgment. He probably saw this as his only chance to actually stand out."

Booth sighed in relief. At least there was no immediate danger. The psycho was dead. Now they just had to find out _why_, and they could go back to solving _normal_ murders.

"But," Sweets said, cutting into his thoughts, "This collage?" he pointed to the back wall. "This right here is exactly what I was talking about. Booth, whoever this is, whoever took over Sampson's spot... he's obsessed with her too. And if I've got this right, and I think I do... he killed Sampson to get rid of what he perceived as his biggest competition in gaining her."


	33. Chapter 33

**AP Tests = Done. Stress = Gone. Me = HAPPY. **

**I worked on this earlier this week as a sort of... calming technique. So I hope you all are happy with the early update. Enjoy!!**

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The moment her phone indicated an incoming call she snatched it up, not even allowing it to finish it's first ring before she demanded, "Booth?" into the receiver.

"Not quite."

She opened and closed her mouth, at a loss. _"Dad?"_

"Hey sweetheart. How are you doing?"

_Wonderful. Some creepy stalker is after me, I just got kicked out of the crime scene and relegated to lab duty, I'm stressed about being _pregnant_, and on top of all of that now I have to somehow pull of a conversation with you, when you haven't called since... around Christmas?_

"I'm fine."

"...You don't sound fine." Trust him to figure that out from just four words. She really wasn't in the mood to deal with this. She was frustrated, and annoyed, and just a _little_ freaked out. Not that she would admit to the last one, because... she simply wouldn't. No one needed to know she was bothered by this, because the less they knew, the better chance she had of making herself more objective about the whole thing. "Is everything alright with you and Booth?"

"Perfect. Listen, Max, I've had a busy day at work, and I'm still rather swamped." She looked around at the chaos of her office, and avoided Angela's eyes. At least she was being completely honest.

"Oh... yeah, I understand."

"How's Russ?" She had to know before he put an awkward end to their already uncomfortable conversation. Not that her brother had bothered trying to call her either. He'd been up in Maine since January with Amy and the kids, spending time with some of her family. They'd spoken just once or twice since Christmas, and from their short talks she'd gathered that he was considering making the permanent move. Amy seemed to love it up north, away from the bustle of the city.

"He's doing well; I haven't seen him since Christmas, though."

There was a silence while she tried to figure out what to say next. It didn't seem like he was going to fill the gap, so she asked for herself. "What have you been doing?"

"Odd jobs here and there... I'm actually back in Virginia now, though... I was wondering if you wouldn't mind a visit?"

At least she knew why he'd called now. A small flicker of happiness went up, but not very strongly. He wanted to see her; that didn't mean that things were normal, or that everything was going to back to the way it had been before last May. But it did mean that he _wanted_ to see her. That meant a lot, at this point.

"Maybe... this weekend?" she suggested.

Angela stood up suddenly, drawing Brennan's attention. Her friend went to the door and opened it for a box-laden Cam, who carried in her load and set it down with the rest, sighing as she observed the state of disarray that was in existence.

"That sounds great, Tempe... Booth won't mind?"

She frowned. Since when did he care if Booth minded? Max always did what he wanted, or what he thought was best for his family. She was aware that he approved of her choice in Booth, but she hadn't expected the question.

"I'm sure he'll be fine with it. We're free this weekend; we just had Parker not too long ago, so his weekend won't be for a while to come. Can you call me back Saturday; I really should get back to what I was doing. My team needs me."

"I- yeah, sure. Go solve murders. I'll see you soon. Love you."

"Love you, too," she said, but there was a pause before she managed to get the words out, and she hoped they didn't sound too insincere. She just wasn't sure if she trusted him at all, or if this was even a good idea. Maybe she should have checked with Booth before considering this weekend as a possibility.

She slid the cell back into her pocket, and raised her eyebrows at the two other woman in the room, who had both been watching her. Cam immediately looked away, but Angela met her gaze steadily, and with a bit of curiosity.

"Your father's coming to visit?" she questioned.

"Sounds like it," she said with a shrug. This wasn't something she wanted having a great deal of discussion on. She wanted to get back to work, no matter how tedious and frustrating it was. "Can we get back to... this?"

"Of course," Cam said, cracking open one of the new boxes and passing around fresh stacks of envelopes to each of them.

"You know, Hodgins should really be helping with this," Ange muttered as she slid a finger through to tear open the top of a crisp white envelope.

"Another boring one," Cam muttered as she placed her latest letter down in the pile to her right. "Although I'd be concerned if I got any of these, to be honest. They all sound like they want to know you personally, and the hero-worship stuff is making Daisy look tame."

Brennan gave a derisive snort that wasn't quite a laugh. "I suppose you haven't seen the photographs from Booth's _crime scene_. I'm sure they'll be all over here soon enough."

Angela aimed a concerned look in her direction, but she ignored it and scanned through another neatly typed letter praising her writing skills and asking eager questions about the fate of the Andy and Kathy relationship. She put it aside and grabbed another.

"This guy thinks you are a 'god of writers,' but he doesn't seem to be the stalker-ish type, from the rest of the letter," Ange said a moment later, holding up a hand-written note on stationary paper. "Y'know, maybe we should call Sweets in on this. He could tell us what type of paper the guy would use, or _something_, and we could narrow it down so we don't have to actually _read_ any more of these..."

"I've always hated the concept of fan mail," Brennan muttered as she put another one aside. "I don't even understand why any of these people bother at all. They all seem rather eager for me to write more books, but yet they think I have time between my career as a forensic anthropologist to answer all of their questions personally as well."

"There are a lot of people that would kill to have enough fame to have crazy fans, actually," Angela informed them seriously before she winced. "Sorry, that didn't sound right, considering... But, hey, at least we can be grateful that I have the computer searching through the emails for key phrases... Cam, can you pass me another stack?"

Their boss nodded and reached into the box, passing off another thick bundle to the artist before she focused back on the letter in her hand.

"Oh, God," she said, coughing.

"What?" was Brennan's immediate question as she leaned closer.

"It smells like a _nursing_ home. God, what did she _do, _ pour her perfume all over this thing?"

Angela managed a chuckle, but didn't look up from her own reading.

Brennan sighed and focused back on her own stack, her hand straying to her pocket as she checked rather pointlessly to see if she had missed a call. There was no way she would have missed it if she had, but she felt restless. Maybe she should just call him.

Why he hadn't called yet, though, was what was mostly concerning her. She wanted to know what was going on, and what else they'd found. And, even though psychology was mostly worthless, she wanted to know what Sweets had to say on what he'd observed in that attic.

Mostly... she just wanted to hear his voice. Today had been long, and... painful. Seeing pictures taken of herself, that she hadn't been aware of... that was bad enough. Seeing them of herself at her most vulnerable, at a stage in her life that she never wanted to revisit... that was far worse. She felt exposed, and even more vulnerable because of it. There was a reason Booth had rarely seen her broken down in those weeks following the assault, and she had never wanted that to change. For him to suddenly learn that she hadn't been nearly as together as she'd put out to him and everyone else... what must he think? Those pictures showed who she was when she thought no one was watching, after all, and that was the most revealing they could possibly have been. That was a _side_ of herself that she hid, because generally people left if they saw how completely helpless she was when she lost her control.

She really needed him to call.

"This one might be something." Angela's voice drew her out of her reverie, and she leaned over to look at the handwritten note her friend was holding. "It starts with a poem, for one," Ange said, raising an eyebrow. "If that isn't creepy enough, it goes on to... describe you, and all your talents... God, Booth would strangle this guy, even if he isn't the one we're looking for..."

"Put it in the possibilities pile," Brennan said, nodding her head towards a very small stack that contained the other border-line concerning letters. None that they had read had been threatening so far, but they weren't even halfway through, and as far as order went, they were still at the ones received in late 2008 and early 2009. She didn't want to get to the ones after May... they would probably all be filled with speculation and questions, and that was the _last_ thing she wanted to put up with today.

The door of her office opened suddenly, without a knock, and Hodgins stood there, holding it open, his eyes lit up with excitement.

"I was working on identifying what was used to clean the bones, and on my analysis of the soil content from the surrounding area... and your computer started beeping."

He addressed the words straight to Angela, who was instantly on her feet, the other two women directly behind her as they hurried from the office and up onto the lab platform.

Before she had the chance to start reading the email that was flashing on Angela's screen, the artist was typing and other pages started opening onto the screen.

"Oh, wow..." she breathed, staring with wide eyes as she skimmed through them.

"Explain the wow, please?" Cam said with just a tinge of impatience.

Angela turned to face them, her hand still on the computer mouse and her eyes wide. Not with excitement, but rather with concern and just a bit of... fear.

"Darrin McAllister; that's who these are all from. Listen..." she leaned over and began to read out the words on what was presumably the first letter. "Dear Temperance, I have found your books to be fascinating and brilliant, and I know that only a true genius could have written them. I feel as though you were speaking directly to me; like you understand me perfectly. I wish more than anything that I could have grown up with you, because I feel as though we know each other from another life, and I would give anything to simply hold your hand." She turned from the screen and raised an eyebrow. "That's not the worst of it, either."

"Alright, I'm creeped out, and I'm not even you," Hodgins said, breaking the silence.

"Go on, Angela, read the others," she instructed, ignoring her other coworker's comment.

With a worried crease across her forehead, the artist turned back and breathed out a slow sigh before launching into the next one.

"Dearest Temperance, your latest novel was as brilliant as your others, and on a different level of fascination. You are truly an artist in your ability to weave characters. I often imagine myself as Andy, with you playing the role of brilliant young Kathy. In fact, I can't see it any other way. I was sorry to not get a response on my previous message to you, but I know that you are so busy, that you must not have the time. I take solace from knowing that you at least have read it, and know that you have made an impact in my life, and continue to do so. I will write again."

"Keep going," she prompted when Angela finished.

With a sigh, her friend clicked to the next email.

"Tempe, I feel as though you are ignoring me on purpose, and I wonder what I did to turn you against me so. I wish for your happiness above all else, and so I am concerned. You did not recognize my name at the book signing, but I was too shy to remind you of my messages to you, because we were in such a public place, and I assumed you would want to talk for longer. I wouldn't want to pull you away from your work, when I know it is so important to you. With all my love, I ask you to respond to this email. I want very badly to hear from you."

"I don't like this guy," Hodgins murmured. Without prompting, Angela went on this time on her own.

"No greeting this time," she said softly. "You are avoiding me. You have made no attempt to make contact. I will not ask again after this. I must speak with you, in person. Respond, and tell me where to meet you and when."

"Angela, why did your computer tag this specific writer?" Cam questioned calmly. "I get that it's... creepy. But what made it pick up on it?"

"This one," Angela said, clicking to the last window she had open. "I set a series of words for the program to look for, and this one came up with the most hits... it's new. From just a few days ago..." her eyes flicked through, reading it in full, before she shook her head and stepped away, fighting back tears, and pushed both Hodgins and Cam back, shooting her a look that clearly said she needed to read it alone, and silently.

Taking a breath, she stepped forward and began to read through the email.

_I know what happened, and I'm not sorry. For avoiding me, you got what you deserved. And now, you'll see again what happens when I don't get what I want. You make it very hard for me to love you, but I still do, and I will do anything to make sure we are together. Be warned that you have no future without me. We belong together._

"The... the writing ability is very poor," she commented, her voice shaking more than she'd like it to.

"I noticed," Ange said softly. She turned to see that both Cam and Hodgins were gone completely from the platform. It was just her and her friend left relatively alone; a few lab techs and students were at the other end of the lab, working in a large group on something. "That's not what concerns me, though."

"We'll have Cam double security, and I'm with Booth whenever I'm not here. I'll be perfectly safe. I think we should have an agent assigned to you and Hodgins, though, and Cam should probably have one as well. I don't want to take any risks of anything happening to any of you because of me."

"We'll be fine," Angela said instantly. "This psycho is after _you_. And I'm scared, alright, Brennan? I'm really scared."

She looked away, at a loss for things that she could say in the situation.

"Brennan." She turned at last to look her friend in the eyes. "You're scared, too. I know you are, even if you won't admit it."

She sighed. "The idea... that he thinks I got what I... what I _deserved_..."

"Hey, _no_. Alright? No. He's crazy; we already established that. We both know that what... what happened was..." a slight sob caught in her voice. "We both know you saved my life. And if this _bastard_ wants to make you feel... feel that you somehow, that you... just _no_. No."

"I know, Ange, I know. Clearly he is... crazy, as you put it. But I'm just concerned about what he... means by that. Clearly he has intent to harm me, because I have _no _intent to involve myself with him anywhere in my future." Her thoughts turned down a darker path as she attempted very hard not to think about exactly what form of harm he might have in mind for her.

"Call Booth. He'll have something to say about this, after he freaks out, of course. And Sweets is with him... I know you hate psychology, but he'll probably see something we missed."

With a sigh, she chose to take the advice, and pulled out her cell phone, hitting his speed dial.

"Booth."

"It's me... where are you?"

"We're just leaving Sampson's house now... what's wrong?" Trust him to pick up on the fact that something was troubling her just from a few words.

"We... need you here. Something came up."

"I'll be there as fast as I can," he said instantly, "... are you alright?"

"I'm... yeah, I'm fine." She would wait to explain to him how she was feeling when he was here, and they were alone. "Just... be careful, alright?"

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**The plot thickens... **

**So... who else died last night? I won't say why, because some of you might not have seen the episode yet... but I can tell you that I personally died at the end there. **

**And next week looks like a doozy, not to mention the finale... which scares me, to be honest, from some of the spoilers I've heard. And no, I don't want any more spoilers for this season; I want some surprises, so please don't give away anything, or you will feel my wrath. :)  
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	34. Chapter 34

**Well, hello everyone. It's been quite some time since I updated, hasn't it? Some of it was laziness, some of it was because I was busy, and most of it was because of writer's block. And, uh... this things called *cough*neopets*cough* **

***clears throat* Right. I know, I have no life. But hey, there's a good chance most of my non-life will be back in gear writing this story pretty soon, so that's a good thing, I suppose. **

**I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I still don't own Bones.**

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"Bones?" his voice echoed through the lab, and she looked up, her eyes full of helpless need as he rounded the corner and stepped into her office, his strides slowing down as he took in her expression, as well as the chaos of her office, and came to a stop a few feet from her desk.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Uh...hi. Bones, what's going on?"

"Clearly, we sorted through the 'fan' mail."

"I... see that. I meant what's going on with... you? Don't try to pretend you're fine or something, because... well, you aren't."

He cleared the last few feet to the desk, and stepped around it to drop down to crouch level with her, a hand resting on the edge of her desk as he stared into her eyes.

"Talk to me," he murmured.

Instead, she turned away and picked up a thin stack of papers, which she proceeded to hand to him. She gave a silent nod towards them, an indication that he should read.

Giving her a frown of confusion, his eyes drifted down and began to read the first email. She watched his expression as calmly as she could, taking in every flicker of reaction that came over his features as he scanned through and moved on to the next one, his eyes becoming darker with every passing word.

When he finished, he let them fall limply back onto the desk, his eyes finding hers. They were dark with unbridled protectiveness, and after only a moment of hesitation he took her by her hands and pulled her upright with him, wrapping his arms securely around her. Her frame shuddered in the embrace, and then relaxed fully into the warmth and comfort he offered.

"I'm scared," she whispered, so softly that she knew he barely caught the words. But catch them he did, because she felt him tense and then soften immediately, his arms tightening around her and his breath coming tenderly against the strands of hair that hung loosely across her face.

"I am too," he answered honestly, giving her a careful squeeze before he loosened his hold on her and pulled her back to look her in the eyes. "I swear that we're going to get through this, though, Bones. I won't let anyone hurt you... I'm going to be with you twenty-four-seven, and if I can't be here, the security is tight enough that no one could possibly get close. I had Cam double it again this morning."

"Booth, he's been... he's been _following _me. He... he _agreed_ with what... what _happened_ to me! What if he... he..."

"Shh..." he pulled her back into his arms and encompassed her once more in his strong arms. At once she relaxed again, breathing out a slow sigh as she tried to regain her composure. Already, she felt ridiculous for the way she was acting. She was stressed, and tired, and her emotions were out of balance. That wasn't going to get her anywhere good, and she knew it.

"I'm okay," she said after a moment. "I'm fine. I just... I don't think I've been getting enough sleep, and those... _pictures_..."

"We're going to get him, Bones."

She pulled away on her own this time, and brushed at her eyes, laughing slightly at herself as she wiped away the moisture that had gathered in them.

"What did Sweets have to say?" she managed to ask him, her throat feeling tight; not yet fully recovered from her little episode.

Booth winced and at once looked guarded, and that put her on alert.

"Booth?" she demanded, her tone gaining a hint of fear that she didn't approve of at all. She seriously needed to start getting back into control. She was losing herself, and that scared her almost as much as this case.

"You aren't going to... like it."

"Tell me," she demanded, her eyes hardening in determination. Whatever it was, she needed to be able to handle it objectively. It was time to pour herself into solving this, and getting her life back on the right track. For one thing, she still had no idea what being pregnant, and the aftermath which would follow, were going to have on their lifestyle.

"Alright," he said with a sigh. "From what Sweets could gather in that attic... our dead guy wasn't alone."

"Wait, you think that... the victim was the stalker, but there is someone... _else?"_

"Apparently, Sampson, it being his house and all, had been... following you for a while. He was a reporter; you already knew that, though. Sweets thinks that you have some sort of... delusional admirer, who perceived Sampson as a threat. Probably whoever it was who wrote those emails. He killed him, and then for some reason, hung onto the body and waited until now to reveal it."

"Sweets would probably say there is something more behind the fact that he dumped the body on the anniversary of the day I filed the restraining order."

Booth sighed. "Yeah. Probably. Hey, listen, Bones... why don't you and I go away for the weekend. Just... get away from this case."

She opened her mouth, ready to answer him with a yes, but then snapped it shut and closed her eyes. "We can't."

She could almost see his scowl, even with her eyes closed. "Why?" he asked, and she felt him move to stand closer to her.

Her eyes opened and met his. "My dad is coming to visit."

"Max? This weekend?" she could tell he was displeased, and at first she was worried that maybe he just didn't like the idea of their getaway being disrupted, but he surprised her with what he said next. "Right. And where exactly has he _been_? Because I don't think I'm quite ready to forgive him for disappearing on you like that. Again."

Despite her similar feelings towards her father, she found herself defending him. "I don't think he's really known what to say around me, since..."

"More like he's probably feeling guilty as hell. Did he leave a number, or is he still switching phones every day?"

"I... didn't get a number, no. But I told him to call back Saturday. I'm sorry, Booth."

For the first time, he seemed to realize that she was upset by his outburst, and he froze where he was, taking in the expression on her face. She tried to hide it, but he saw straight through her façade.

"Hey, no, alright? You don't... Bones, you've gotten nothing to be sorry for. I'm not blaming you. I'm just... frustrated. About this case, about your dad being... who he is... I just want you to be safe. Safe and _happy_."

She sighed. "I guess I can understand that, Booth. But... I just want to give him a chance. Even if he hasn't really... been around."

Booth offered a soft smile, and reached out to gently take her hand and give it a light squeeze. "Hey, he's still your dad. And even if I give him a hard time, and I will, I do know that he loves you."

She gave a hesitant smile in response, and brushed once, quickly, at the corner of her eye, where a bit of moisture she hadn't even noticed had begun to slip down the side of her face. "It felt like he walked out again," she murmured softly, her voice quivering in a way that she really didn't approve of. She cleared her throat, but the damage was done. The pity surfaced quickly in his eyes, and he pulled her into his arms again, whispering comfort into her hair.

"Bones, you have to speak up sometimes," he murmured at last, after his words had died into a gentle silence. "If you just... tell me how you're feeling, I can help. I would have hunted down your father ages ago if I had... _known_."

She shook her head rapidly, pulling out of the embrace. "That... that would not be the same," she argued, "He... I want him to come to _me_. Not because... he felt _obligated_. This is better. This is just... better. I don't want to be lied to." She gave a hesitant little laugh that lacked any humor. "It would be like... like if you were only with me because you felt bad for me."

He stiffened. "Bones..."

She brushed her eyes again, shaking her head. "I know, I know. Booth, I know you love me. But... that's what it would be like. I wouldn't want that. It wouldn't _mean anything_. And this... what we have? This means something, because we both... we both made the choice."

It took him a moment, but finally he smiled back at her, and brushed a hand up her arm finally resting the back of it against her cheek before using his fingers to brush a strand of hair out of the way. His other hand reached up to rest on her other arm, and his first hand slid around behind her head as he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

She melted under him, relaxing for the first time since she'd read the emails earlier. This was what it was supposed to be like... just the two of them, together, facing the world and winning. Complications were always going to be there, though, no matter how much she wished some of them would melt away. But she couldn't pick and choose... she wanted her father to care about her, and be there in her life, but she didn't want any of this attention from people she didn't know. She wanted to be left _alone_.

And from the moment she'd found out about the pictures up until the moment his lips touched hers, she had been feeling like the world was watching her from every angle. Like she was under Hodgins' microscope, everything she did being analyzed closely. Every emotion she showed being catalogued to later be put on display. It was bad enough that the pictures had already been taken... it was downright terrifying to imagine that it was still happening.

"I want the apartment searched," she murmured after they had broken apart.

He frowned, but quickly agreed. Anything for her, she thought wryly as she read the look in his eyes. At the same time, she saw the hint of fear that slipped into his eyes at the implications of her request.

He didn't try to reassure her that they wouldn't find anything, which surprised her and worried her. Clearly, he thought that there was a good chance that there _might_ be something wrong in their _home_.

She thought helplessly of Angela and Hodgins mansion, and how nice it would be to just hide out there like she had done a few times with her best friend, back when some things had gotten to be too much. Mostly, she had gone to Angela's apartment, but when the artist had been spending most of her time with the entomologist, he had been only too welcoming of her company there. Now, though, she had Booth. He would keep her safe, she reminded herself. And then, simultaneously, she cursed herself for ever having the thought. She didn't _need_ protection. She could take care of herself.

But... it was nice, and she couldn't deny that fact, that Booth _was_ there. No matter what, he would be by her side, ready to comfort her fears whether they were founded or completely unrealistic. And the difference between the two wouldn't have any meaning to him, because all that would matter was that he was with her.

She kissed him again, and smiled against his lips at the surprise, but eagerness, with which he responded.

"Can we... get some food?" she asked.

"Of course, Bones," he agreed easily, grinning. "I think we need to just... get away from this for a while, right? I mean... God, we just searched Sampson's house this _morning_... it feels like we've been working on this case for a week or something. Why don't you... get your stuff together, and I'll call and have a team sweep the apartment real quick. Then we'll go home for the night, and tomorrow... tomorrow we'll get back to work on catching this sick bastard."

"That... that sounds great," she said, letting loose an unintentional sigh of relief, her eyes brightening just a bit.

The smile she got in response to her sincere answer was rewarding enough to give him an equally wide one back, but then he was turning away, pulling out his phone as he exited her office to make the call, and she was focused on collecting her belongings and finding her coat under the disaster of boxes and letters that surrounded her.

When she finally located it and made her way out of the office, locking it behind her with no intent of returning that day, she found Booth just snapping his cell shut. He grinned at her, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they made their way past the platform to the doors.

"Leaving so soon, are we?" Angela commented from where she sat beside Hodgins' at his station. She raised her eyebrows up and down suggestively, and Brennan rolled her eyes.

"See you tomorrow, Ange," Booth called, winking at the artist and getting a laugh in response just before the glass doors slid shut behind the couple.

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"When do you think would be a good time to tell everyone?" Booth asked hesitantly as she sipped her glass of water. "I mean... I know that you're only thirteen weeks along, but soon we're going to have to tell everyone, I mean... you don't _look_ pregnant right _now_, but..."

"I will soon," she said with a nod and a soft smile. It was still a strange concept to grasp... this whole idea that she was pregnant. She'd been so busy and unfocused towards herself in the past few months that somehow she'd missed all the signs of it, but now it was really starting to hit her. Somehow, she'd skipped out on most of the morning sickness that Angela had been plagued with in the start of her pregnancy, and even now she could tell it wasn't going to be much of a problem. Her doctor had informed her that it would begin to go away soon anyways. She was going to start gaining weight, too. Lots of weight. The thought was still somewhat... alarming, but she knew she could adjust. And besides, she was a very active person. She would lose whatever fat she put on from the pregnancy not long after it was over, she was sure.

"We'll tell people when we're... ready," she said firmly. "I would prefer to... wait, though. And... keep this to ourselves." She cleared her throat. "I have... we know there is somewhere out there who is very... _interested_... in me... and I don't want him to know. I mean... Booth, what if he's already seen us going to see Dr. Crow? What if he... what if something happens _because_ I'm pregnant?"

"Bones, nothing is going to happen to you, or the baby. Alright? I'm not going to let _anything_ get close to you."

"I know," she sighed. It was nice to hear him say it, but no matter how much he might try, it wasn't reassuring _enough_. Especially not when she considered the fact that Booth wouldn't hesitate to put _himself_ in danger to protect her and their unborn child. She couldn't handle that, but she chose not to bring it up at the moment. It would only lead to a fight, because that was the only direction that topic _ever_ went in, and right now she didn't want that. She needed to be able to talk to him and relax with him. Tension was the very last thing she needed right then.

"Have you decided whether or not we want to find out the sex yet?" he prodded when the silence grew between them. It was a point that he regularly asked, because she had never firmly decided either way. Angela hadn't wanted to find out, and she had found herself leaning similarly in that direction. The surprise would be nice, but at the same time it was totally irrational. It wouldn't change the outcome to know ahead of time. It would also enable them to figure out a name and properly decorate a room. Not to mention, she hadn't even seen the baby on an ultrasound yet because that would give her well-tuned eyes the impossible-to-avoid chance to notice what sex the baby was.

"You know what?" she said, making up her mind. "Let's find out at my next appointment. Thursday."

His face broke into a huge grin. "That sounds great, Bones. So, before we do... what do _you_ think it is?"

He gave a light chuckle. "Booth, I'm not like Angela. I'm not the... _motherly_ _intuition_ type. I have no idea at all."

"Don't worry," he consoled lightly, "That will develop. Before you know it, you'll be growing eyes in the back of your head, and fussing over the littlest things, and having panic attacks every time she wants to do anything that could _possibly_ be dangerous."

"She?"

He grinned hugely, eyes flashing with happiness. "My _fatherly intuition_," he joked. "That doesn't mean I'm right, but... you know what, I can see you with a little girl in your arms. And I bet she'd be _just_ like you."

"Well, you know what?" she leaned forward, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Just for that, I'm going to say that I think it's a boy."

"Uh huh, Bones, whatever you say."

"Really. That's what I think."

He chuckled in response. "You aren't countering me, Bones. You're using that intuition that you claim you don't possess... and by the way, by claiming you don't have it, you're claiming it _exists_. I'm proud of you."

She stared at him speechlessly, at a loss for words, but before she could even form a coherent sentence his phone was ringing, and she watched as he reached into his pocket and pulled it out, flipping it open and pressing it to his ear.

"Booth."

A long silence.

"Where?"

His face had hardened to stone, his eyes darkening with fury and his frame stiffening.

"Stay there. Get everything. I'll be over in a minute."

More silence as there was a response on the other end.

"No. I'm dropping her off at her friend's place."

"Booth?" she questioned in concern, but he ignored her, listening to whatever the person on the other side of the conversation was saying.

"Right," he said firmly, and then snapped the phone shut, staring hard at the table for a long moment before his eyes raised and met hers, burning dangerously.

The light-hearted mood of their conversation had vanished in the instant that he'd taken the call, and she could feel her heart pounding frantically now. What was going on?

"They found a camera," Booth hissed. His next words left no room for argument. "You're staying with Angela until I say otherwise."

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**I don't deserve the reviews, I know, but I'm going to say that they will most definitely get me back in front of this computer and writing sooner than if I don't get any at all. So, that said... forgive me for being a terrible updater? Please?**


	35. Chapter 35

**It might be short, but it is indeed an update. And it didn't take me two months to update! Whoo!**

**I was rather surprised that no one caught my error in the last chapter, which I found last night and quickly changed. I had them discussing her pregnancy... and in the same sentence she was drinking a glass of wine. Wow. Way to go, Jill, right? **

**Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter :)**

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He tried to ignore the woman who was trying to keep up with him as he pounded up the stairs to their floor of the apartment building. She had completely and utterly refused to go to Angela's, no matter what he said or did, and she only complied with the request to _stay_ there tonight on the condition that she get to come back to the apartment with him right now, and see what was going on.

Frustration already sending him reaching for the end of his rope, he rounded the corner to find an assortment of techs gathered around outside the apartment.

"Where was it?" Bones asked, pushing past him suddenly. He bit back a growl of annoyance, but could only follow her as she joined the group of men and woman that surrounded their doorway.

"Didn't find anything inside," a young Latino woman informed them in a thick accent, "But this here," she pointed up to a camera mounted on the wall—the security camera for their floor, which was a few feet to the right and angled so that it could see all of the doors, not just theirs—"This was tampered with, and we found an add-on hooked to the side, barely noticeable, that was transmitting its own signal."

"So someone was using the security camera as a ploy to get their own images?"

"Right. And it was aimed—" she turned and pointed at their door, "—Right smack dab at your doorway."

She frowned. "So he didn't get inside, but he wanted to see..." she trailed off, her eyes flashing to him with sudden fear, "He wanted to see when we were home."

Booth gritted his teeth and turned away from her stare. He felt like an idiot for not having this checked out sooner. He was a sniper turned FBI Agent; he should be able to figure out when someone had reconnaissance on him _or_ his partner. Especially since Sampson had been following her around for ages, taking _goddamn pictures_ of her. He should have paid more attention to outsiders in those months following her assault. He shouldn't have been so focused on her; he should have spread his interests to simultaneously protect her from her own emotions _and_ from outside threats. He had assumed that being by her side at all times would be enough, but he'd been wrong.

"Booth, Brennan!" A voice drew his attention, and hers, to someone that was pushing their way through the crowd. At once, Booth groaned. Just what he needed right now. "Good, I'm glad you both came. This is... really major. I think we need to all sit down and talk about this. _All _of this."

"Sweets, you were helpful earlier, but right now... we really just need you out of our hair. There's enough going on without you bullying us into talking about our feelings."

The kid's expression fell, and he looked truly hurt by the comment, "Booth, I'm not here to pick your brains. I'm here to figure out who's trying to get to Dr. Brennan."

"Brennan," she corrected absent-mindedly, and the psychologist waved her off, apparently not too caring of the fact he had permission to call her by her informal title nowadays.

"Listen, if we could just sit down... we need to go over all the details. Right now, they're all really spread out, and if we put it all together, I could get a much better handle on this guy. I haven't been over to the Jeffersonian, but I talked to Cam and she said something about emails..?"

To his surprise, Bones caved easily, gesturing for him to turn back into the crowd and following him through it and into their apartment. Booth sighed, yanked his hands out of his pockets, and hurried after them, having no problem with pushing people out of the way in order to keep up.

Inside, Sweets didn't even glance around at her apartment, despite never having been in it before, which gave Booth the frustrating idea that he'd probably already explored it while the techs were searching for bugs and cameras.

Bones settled herself on the couch, and Sweets wisely took the chair and left the spot next to her open for him, which he took quickly, lacing her fingers through his. She looked down in surprise, but didn't pull away and didn't comment on the small gesture.

"Alright, let's start with what we know," Sweets began, "First, we know about Sampson. He followed you around as a reporter, up until you got a restraining order on him." He seemed to be waiting for a response, and Booth saw her give a hesitant nod of agreement to the statement before the psychologist went onwards. "He continued to follow you, from a distance. Prior to the restraining order, he hadn't been as interested, but afterwards... he seemed to increase his focus on you. I took the time, earlier, to look into what other articles he had been working on... and found next to nothing. He was supposed to focus on news in literature, so it's not surprising that he got attached to you, but he only wrote a few short stories about other authors before he simply stopped altogether. I can't know for sure if it was because he simply stopped caring, or if that was the point at which he was killed. Has there been any confirmation on time of death?"

"None," she said irritably. "The body was cleaned with precision and a great deal of care paid toward that very detail _not_ being figured out. All the bugs and particulates Hodgins was able to find came from the scene where the body was located, not the place where Sampson was when he was murdered."

Sweets sighed and nodded. "Alright, so we don't know that detail. If you would be willing to look over some of the pictures taken by our two stalkers, I can discern when our second one began to follow you if you can give me dates for the images that I pick out."

She stiffened, and at once Booth was on the defensive.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," he said firmly. "Bones and I have had a pretty rough week already, and it's only Tuesday. Try to find... timestamps or something."

"No, I'll do it," she said with a definitive nod. "It will be much faster that way."

"Alright, good," Sweets said, offering her a warm smile. Booth glared, but both of them ignored him. "Now, we know that at some point in July or August he was killed, because there is no August bulletin board. That's where looking through the pictures on the back wall will come in to help us identify when the second suspect began following you."

"Whoa, hold up a second. Back up in that attic?"

"Unfortunately, yes, that is where we will have to go. There are far too many pictures, and arranged far too specifically, for them to be taken down, attached to another surface, and brought here. It _could_ be done, but it would take probably at least a week, with the precision that would be necessary."

"I'm fine with going to the attic, Booth," she said calmly, and he ground his teeth together, biting back a comment as Sweets carried on as though the interruption had never occurred.

"The emails, from what I got from my short talk with Cam, were sent periodically over a period of several months, starting in February. Apparently, both of our stalkers became overly-interested at about the same time. I still hold to my earlier analysis that they worked completely separate of one another, however. Do you happen to have a copy of the emails..?"

Wordlessly, she reached for her bag and pulled out the folded pages, passing them over to him. Booth was starting to feel completely unneeded, and it was starting to get on his nerves. This whole conversation had been between Bones and Sweets, and he had yet to be able to contribute anything useful. It felt like all the evidence was either psychological or scientific, and there was nothing for him to _do_. And to top it all off, Bones was actually giving Sweets credence for his theories, rather than challenging him at every step as she usually did.

The psychologist read through the emails in silence, his expression getting more somber with each one.

He sighed as he placed the papers back on the table. "Alright, this is just preliminary, but here's what I get from that. Clearly, he is deeply attracted to you. He wants you to be his, and he might even believe that you both know each other very well, and you have therefore betrayed him. In the first two emails, he seems to be writing to someone he knows very well. He shows affection and even fascination. He looks up to you; practically worships you." She shifted uncomfortably, and Booth took the opportunity to put an arm around her shoulders and pull her closer to his side. She didn't object, and he allowed himself one small smile of relief. "In this third email, though," he continued, "He shows clear disappointment and frustration. He feels like you have turned against him, and while he is angry, he still holds on to the hope that things will work out. Now, the fourth email..." he trailed off, frowning slightly as he reached forward and scanned through it one more time before shaking his head. He worried his lip for a second, and then seemed to work up the ability to speak. By then, though, Booth was starting to feel the concern of what the psychologist's clear nervousness might mean. "This one was from May, shortly after you were assaulted. He states that he knows what happened, and that he isn't sorry for it. This... this, uh... Dr. Brennan, this suggests, to me, that he was..."

"Spit it out," Booth snapped out in frustration.

"He was involved."

There was stunned silence, and then Brennan whispered. "He was... he was..." she shook her head, eyes wide, "He _what?_"

"Judging from the way this is written, and how he refuses to 'apologize' as well as uses it as a threat of sorts... it gives me the idea that he played some role in what happened."

Her face was white by now, and Booth fought off the urge to pick up Sweets and dump him out the door for panicking her.

"Bones?" he questioned nervously, rubbing a hand up and down her arm. She ignored him.

"He told me," she whispered. "On the phone... he told me that... that he would know if tried to tell anyone. I thought... I thought he might have someone watching outside, and waiting for me to come out, so he'd know..." A single tear tracked it's way down her cheek, and then she went very still before she said, so softly that he barely heard her, "Oh, God..."

And then she bolted from the couch and vanished, the loud sound of the bathroom door slamming following only a moment later.

* * *

"Bones? Bones, are you alright?" he called nervously from the other side of the door.

"Go away," she half-sobbed.

He rested his forehead against the door, sighing before he turned to glare at Sweets, who was standing awkwardly at the end of the hallway, still somewhat in the living room and looking like he really didn't know what to do or say. It took only three quick strides to place him right in front of the younger man.

"What did you think you were doing?" he hissed quietly enough so that she wouldn't hear. "You totally freaked her out, you idiot!"

"Sorry!" Sweets squeaked back. "I just... you have to understand, this guy is dangerous! She needs to know, and she needs to know _all_ of it, even if it's... bad."

Booth ran a hand through his hair, grinding his teeth together. "Go... sit back down or something, alright? Or leave. I really don't care." He spun back around and went right back to the door, attempting to turn the knob but finding that it was, unsurprisingly, still locked.

"Bones, baby, you gotta let me in," he pleaded softly.

Finally, he heard the lock click, but she didn't open the door. He pulled it open carefully, peering in to find her sitting on the edge of the bath tub, arms rested on her knees, head hanging.

"Oh, Bones..." he murmured, stepping around to sit carefully beside her. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine," she said, but her voice was monotone and he knew her eyes were probably still filled with tears.

Much to his relief, she didn't try to push him away when he placed a hesitant hand on her back and began to rub it up and down soothingly.

"I thought it was over," she finally confessed, her voice taut with pain, "I thought... I thought that I was moving on, and that it was in the past, and that it would stop _following_ me."

"It will, Bones. I promise you, alright? This isn't going to change anything. Besides, Sweets might have it all wrong. This guy is crazy... it doesn't mean he was a part of it. He could have just... found out."

She sniffed and brushed at her eyes. "That wouldn't make sense, Booth," she finally managed to say, her voice semi-normal. "Sampson tried everything he could to figure it out, and clearly he didn't. How would this _Darrin McAllister_ have known?" she shook her head, and then murmured before he could answer, "I doubt that's even his name..."

"I doubt it too, Bones. But we'll get him. We're the best crime-fighting team in America, remember?"

She rewarded him with a slight quirk of her lip. It wasn't a full smile, but for the moment, it would be enough.

"Alright, do you want me to get rid of Sweets, or what? We can ditch him and go get dessert over at the Diner or something."

She shook her head. "No. No, I... we can't. I need to have something looked into over at the lab."

He frowned. "What, exactly?"

"I need them to search for cameras there as well."

* * *

**Poor Brennan. Will this ever leave her alone?**


	36. Chapter 36

Sweets looked far more nervous when she and Booth rejoined him in the living room, but she took her seat with her head held high, and appraised him calmly, just waiting for him to dare and comment on her swift disappearance a few moments ago.

He cleared his throat.

"Um... alright, so, I'll... continue?"

"Go ahead," she said with a nod. If there was more to this 'profile'he was coming up with, they might as well here it sooner rather than later. While she still hated psychology, if it might help _at all_ in this situation... well, she would listen to it. She wasn't going to admit it, but this whole situation where their enemy was unknown and _watching_... it panicked her and if a shrink could tell her more, and it made sense... well then, for once she was going to be all for it. But _just_ this once.

"We were just talking about... how our suspect might have been involved in your abduction and assault." He was watching her for reaction, probably worried she might get up and run off again, and she stared back until he flicked his eyes away and cleared his throat again. "Knowing that, we can, uh... predict his future behavior."

At that, she stiffened, but kept her expression neutral. Booth, sitting close beside her, felt the shift and tightened his grip around her shoulders. She would have offered him a grateful smile, but her eyes were still locked on Sweets, waiting for him to continue.

"Already, we know that he's starting to... plan. The camera in your hallway is proof of that. The fact that there weren't any cameras _inside_ your apartment, though, tells us something else about him. Initially, I thought of two reasons why that might be. First off, he might simply lack the skills to break in unnoticed and make the plant. I have reason to think that it's my second theory, though. I believe he doesn't _want_ to know what your life is like inside of your apartment. Seeing you enter and leave... that would satisfy his urge to _control_ you, because he knows where you are. I wouldn't have been surprised if he had planted a tracking device on your car, but those were searched as well and didn't turn anything up. You see, if he had put cameras within these walls," he gestured around them, "Then he would be seeing you as the happy couple that he _doesn't_ want to see. He wants you to be horrible together. He thinks that he is the perfect match for you, Dr. Brennan, and he won't stand anything else. Which leads to my next theory.

"His involvement in your abduction would have been minimal. He feeds off the need to control, and..." he met her eyes seriously, "Rape is a very powerful form of control."

She didn't say anything, and Booth seemed to take this as his opportunity to speak. "So what does he want with her, then?" the question and the last statement by Sweets were a dangerous combination, and she fought to keep herself calm. She didn't know if she'd be able to handle it if Sweets told her that this stalker wanted to 'control' her the way that Roberts and Gados had. If there was one things she knew better than anything, it was that she would not survive if she had to go through it again. She just... wouldn't.

And what about the baby?

"I don't believe that this man has plans to sexually assault Dr. Brennan." The breath of relief that she let out was loud enough that Sweets paused before hurriedly plowing on as if to pretend he hadn't noticed. "However, I do think that he wants to control her in his own way." The fact that he was speaking to Booth now rather than her was frustrating, and she leaned forward in an attempt to insert herself in the conversation. On instinct, Sweets eyes flicked to meet hers, and he carried on, "He may try to abduct you, and make you some sort of... companion to him. See, he thinks you are in love." He tapped the emails. "That's why he sees you 'ignoring' him as this huge betrayal, and he can't handle it. I don't doubt, though, that he might... resort to certain extremes if he met with resistance."

"Such as?" she questioned.

"If the situation were to arise where you held captive by this man—_If_, Booth, I didn't say _when_—then it is super important that you play along with whatever he wants. If you resisted him, or insulted him in any way... he might very well resort to the same form of control that he learned was... effective."

A shudder passed through her, and Booth's hand rubbing up and down her back was the only thing that kept her grounded as he went onwards yet again.

"When you were first abducted, you received a phone call. I believe that there is every chance some sort of bug was placed in the Jeffersonian to monitor whether or not you spoke with anyone before leaving. Most likely, it was audio based rather than visual, but it could have been both. It might even still be in place, which is why having the Jeffersonian swept is a very good idea. Placing this bug and monitoring it would probably have been the suspect's main contribution. I don't think he was anywhere near the house you were brought to."

She nodded, not trusting her voice at all. Here she had thought that it was over, and she could focus on moving on, focus on being with Booth, focus on having this child... and instead the past was coming up all over again. Just like it always seemed to do with her. She didn't know how much more of her past she could handle. Why didn't it ever leave her _alone?_

"I'm going to have a protection detail set up," Booth said firmly. "You're staying with Angela and Hodgins anyways, until this is over, but they'll be following you everywhere no matter _what_."

"I don't think that's a very good idea, Booth."

"Why not?" he snapped at the psychologist, eyes blazing.

Sweets wet his lips nervously with his tongue, and then answered in as firm a voice as he could probably muster, "Because, whoever this is has a quick temper. If he found every access to her blocked, he would lose it. You work for the FBI the same as I do, and I know you don't have to be a psychologist to understand how a stalker profiler works."

Booth continued to glare, and she reached out to hesitantly touch his arm. "Booth?" He sighed, but didn't answer the unspoken question. "What does that mean?" she asked, worry starting to creep into her voice.

"It's classic stalker behavior; I've seen it far too often. It's how they operate... they invest themselves in their target... make themselves believe that they'll have this... perfect life with them. And when it doesn't work out the way they want..." He trailed off, and she frowned. If Booth knew all this, why did they need Sweets? And why hadn't he spoken up sooner?

But Sweets answered that question for her with his next words.

"If it doesn't work out the way they want, then the only thing the stalker feels they can do is kill their target."

"I'm not going to get shot," she snapped irritably as he eyed the surrounding buildings carefully as they drove towards Hodgins' neighborhood. He'd been acting suspicious of everyone they saw, and had practically pulled his gun on a guy that was looking for directions.

"Yeah, well, I'm not ready to take the risk of letting my guard down, Bones."

"Out of curiosity," she said suddenly, switching the topic on him, "Why didn't we tell Sweets that I'm pregnant?"

"Because it's none of his business," Booth answered tersely.

"Wouldn't it help his profile, though? I mean... Booth, he seems to understand stalker behavior fairly well. If... if whoever this was _did_ know that I was pregnant... it might change how he..." she shook her head, trying to fight off the fears but failing. "Booth, I don't want to lose this child," she whispered.

He pulled to a stop in the driveway, putting the vehicle in park and giving her his full attention, his eyes soft and reassuring. "Bones, I already told you that I wasn't going to let him hurt you, or our baby."

"And how do you propose to protect our child from a bullet?" she snapped back.

"Oh, so _now_ you think you're going to get shot?"

She glared at him furiously, sputtering but not coming up with a good response, and then she yanked the door open and slammed it shut behind her, grabbing her bag of belongings from the back and storming up towards the house.

"Bones! _Bones!_" She heard him shouting, heard his door slam and his pounding footsteps, but she didn't slow her long strides down in the slightest. She was stressed enough as it was. She didn't need this right now on top of everything else.

He grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him.

"I love you," he murmured seriously. "Bones, I love you so much that sometimes it terrifies me. And right now, I'm pretty goddamn terrified, because I can't lose you and live through it."

"And I can't lose you!" she shot back. "So stop trying to protect me, because I swear to God, Seeley Booth, if you get yourself killed saving my life, I will bring you back from the dead and kill you again for leaving me."

Her words, laced with so much venom, froze him in place, eyes wide with shock.

"Is that what this is about? Is that why you're so upset with me?"

"Why do you _think_ I'm upset? You already died once on me, for God's sake! And here you are, promising over and over and _over_ that you _won't let anything hurt me_. Well if you get hurt it _will_ hurt me. And you just can't seem to understand that because you are a controlling alpha male and you think you're the _only one_ in this relationship that's allowed to be worried about the other."

He was still staring at her, dumbstruck, when she spun on her heel and started towards the door again. By now, she was sure Angela and Hodgins were observing from one of their many windows, but she really didn't care.

"Bones, stop!"

"What?" she shouted, turning around again with her eyes blazing and barely concealing the tears that were starting to form. Stupid uncontrollable emotions.

"I won't leave you, baby," he murmured, stepping forward and reaching for her hand. He took it in his and squeezed gently. "I swear to you, Bones, I won't do anything... overly rash or crazy. I'll do absolutely everything I can to keep this family together, do you understand?"

"Then don't go running around tonight looking for whoever this is."

He opened his mouth and then closed it again.

"I'm not an _idiot_. You said you were going back to your apartment so you wouldn't _intrude_ on Hodgins and Angela, but you have no problem dropping me off here. _Don't lie to me_."

He sighed. "I just want this bastard behind bars. That's all I want, Bones, so that we can go back to... normal. Or whatever it is that we usually are."

She managed a sad little smile at his attempted humor, but then glanced towards the house. "Please, Booth. Just stay here with me. Let me be your _partner_ on this, not your helpless charge that needs to be kept locked up while you run around and fight the bad guys off."

"Alright, Bones, you win," he said softly, and then he pressed his lips to hers just as the front door opened.

"Are you two coming in, or are you going to sleep outside tonight?" Hodgins called, grinning widely from next to Angela.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say they listened to our whole conversation," Booth murmured in her ear as they turned to go to the door together.

"I wouldn't doubt that for a minute," she answered.


	37. Chapter 37

**Sorry for the wait, I got distracted again. Summer has left me totally free of responsibility, and as a result I sit in front of my television all day long and watch tv shows on Netflix. As a result, I've rather missed writing, and I'm eager to get back to this story. :)**

**

* * *

**

"Coffee?" Angela asked, holding a steaming cup towards her. She smiled gratefully and reached out to carefully take it from her friend. Her laptop was warm on her lap, and her legs were starting to get cramped in their position curled up to the side. She sipped the warm beverage, sighing in appreciation before she set it down on the table beside her chair and shifted her laptop to the arm of the chair, standing up to stretch.

"What time is it?" she questioned, more out of realization that she had no idea than out of any real expectancy for her friend to answer her. Her eyes had shifted to the clock the moment the words escaped her lips, and she saw that it was past midnight.

Hodgins had gone off to bed ages ago, and while Booth had stayed up much later, he, too, had gone off when it became obvious that she wasn't going to be coming along to their guest room any time soon.

"Late, sweetie. Are you sure you don't want to... you know, _sleep?"_

She shook her head. "Can't, Ange. For one, I'm far too awake to go to sleep... and then you just brought me a cup of pretty much pure caffeine. Clearly you can't be that concerned."

Ange laughed. "Alright, I'll admit it's nice to have someone to sit up with. And this," she held up her own coffee mug, "Is my guilty pleasure. I'll admit, I've been having trouble staying away from it... too much caffeine isn't good for junior. I look forward to my one cup a day, but let me tell you, I'm eager to get back to my old routine."

Brennan just nodded thoughtfully, and Angela narrowed her eyes, clearly about to ask something. She cut her off before she could start, though. "What about you? You aren't tired?"

"Not at all, actually. I've been doing a lot of reading..." she gestured to a stack of baby related books that covered a desk in the corner, and Brennan felt a tightening in her chest. Should she be reading, too? She knew next to nothing about having a child, and she hadn't done nearly enough research into what she should be expecting. She knew all of the basics, and the anatomy aspects, but on the personal stuff, the _emotional_ stuff... she was way out of her depth. Perhaps she should ask Angela if she could borrow some of those...

Her friend seemed to be reading her face, and she quickly fixed her expression and reached for the coffee again, taking a much-too-eager sip of it and burning her tongue. Hissing in pain, she shot Ange another look to see that the suspicious look had faded away to one of amusement.

"Sure you aren't too out of it?"

"Positive," she said, tenderly touching the tip of her tongue. "Besides, I need to get this manuscript finished... the deadline is getting closer than I'm comfortable with. I've never taken this much time to get a book finished and on my editor's desk before."

"You haven't asked for a lot of my help this time."

"Sorry, I've been... able to handle it on my own for this one."

Angela chuckled knowingly. "I can't imagine why. So things are going well, then?"

"Perfectly."

"Told you so."

She laughed. "Yes, you did."

A moment of silence passed, and Ange sighed. "Alright, Bren, you talk like everything is perfect, but I can tell something is bothering you. What is it?"

_A lot of things_.

"This case."

"I could have told you that. Come on, sweetie. Talk to me about it."

She bowed her head, and gently set the cup back down on the table. "Booth. He's just... you know, being himself. He feels like he needs to protect me from everything, and now... I just don't know what to do anymore. He promised nothing would happen to us, but... he's the one I'm worried about." Her eyes locked on her friend's with a fiery determination raging in them. "You know what happened the last time I lost him."

Angela nodded, her eyes filling with a sorrow that clearly conveyed the many memories of long nights and helpless breakdowns. She broke the connection, unable to face remembering it all.

"I can't go through that again. Especially not now." Hesitantly her eyes looked up again, and saw at once that Angela, somehow, already knew. It was written all over her face. "I'm pregnant, Ange."

"Finally!" Ange cried, beaming and immediately standing up. She awkwardly pulled her friend into a hug, laughing. "I've suspected it for a while; I'm just glad you two finally woke up to it... I knew you'd probably never believe me if I told you myself, of course, and I just-"

"You knew _before_ we did?"

"I _suspected_," she said, waving her hand as if to say that it didn't matter anyways. "And then you're missing work and throwing up... Besides that, though, I've always had great intuition."

"Booth wasn't expecting me to tell anyone, and I know he hasn't yet... so I'd prefer if you kept this to yourself. If that's even possible, of course."

"Don't worry, I'll let you both share the amazing news with the rest of the world whenever you're ready. I'm just so _happy_ for you, though! How long?"

"I'm due on August 14th."

"Boy or girl?"

"We're finding out on Friday. What about you, though? Still sticking with the mystery?"

"That's the plan."

"Booth keeps bugging me about names, but I haven't really looked yet. I have plenty of time, though... what about the two of you? Have you and Hodgins come up with any promising ones yet?"

"Well, I'm nearly positive it's a boy, so we've been mostly focusing on that possibility. Jack likes Quinn, but I'm favoring Gregory or—Hodgins' favorite—Phoenix."

She laughed. "I'm going to assume that was sarcastic."

Angela grinned, "Yeah, but I'm not giving up hope. It's a rather distinguished name, don't you think?"

"Take it from someone that has a somewhat unique name... it's not as fun as you might think."

"I'll keep that in mind. Recently I've been getting rather attached to Napoleon, though. Hodgins likes it better than Phoenix, but I still don't think he's going to go along with it in the long run."

"I can't say I blame him, to be honest."

"What would you suggest, then?"

"Ange, I don't want to give you ideas; it should be something you come up with on your own."

Her friend waved her off, "You and Booth are going to be the little guy's godparents. Plus, I'm _asking_ for your opinion."

She thought for a moment. "How about... Nicholas? Or Cody?"

"Cody has promise," she said with a nod. "Short and sweet, strong sounding... I'll run it by Jack and see what he thinks."

"Ange, if the other options are Phoenix and Napoleon, he might agree with just about anything."

Her friend laughed again. "Very valid point. Has anything come to you, yet? What do you think it is, first off?"

"Booth's leaning towards girl, but I have to say I think it's a boy. As for names, I haven't the slightest clue." Her eyes strayed towards the literature collection across the room, and Angela followed her gaze.

"That would be perfect. Two little boys running around the Jeffersonian... oh, I can just see Cam now, having a fit but not having the heart to yell at them... I bet they'll be great friends. But besides that, how are you feeling about this whole thing? I mean, I know you told me that you wanted a child, that you'd been thinking about it, but how do you feel now, when it's actually going to happen?"

"It's... a bit overwhelming. You know that I'm not exceptionally skilled at dealing with babies or children to begin with, and I guess..." she hesitated slightly, her mind spinning with a million different emotions. "I guess it just really has yet to fully hit me. I understand, on some level, that it is going to happen. According to my doctor I should begin to gain weight very soon, so maybe at that point it will start to be more... real."

"It's because you just learned about it what... a couple days ago? I'm not surprised it hasn't sunk in yet. But hey, you've got plenty of time on your hands to figure everything else out. And those?" she nodded towards the books that Brennan had been eyeing. "Help yourself to anything you want."

Brennan gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you, Ange. Really. I actually find that... I'm really glad we're both going through this at the same time. It's nice to have... someone to talk to that isn't freaked out about it as much as I am."

"So Booth's freaked out, huh? I bet he's excited, too, though, isn't he?"

"Of course. We are... both very excited. I'm actually not sure if it's fully hit him yet, either, though. And this whole case is making him focus more on my safety then on his feelings about our child."

"Well, this whole case has me pretty worried about you, too, sweetie."

She sighed. "Yeah, I know. Ange, I just wish that it wouldn't always come back to _him_ again. It feels like I can... never get away from it, no matter what I do, anymore. I was doing fine up until Lilia showed up dead, and then... everything just fell apart."

"Booth loves you, though, and you're going to have a beautiful little family with him."

She could only manage a small smile at the thought. "I wish it were that simple. We both know that I... don't know that much about families."

"Sweetie, you grew up in a happy house, with a cool older brother and loving parents. You've told me all about it."

"But it didn't end well, Ange. And I just... I don't know how to be a good mother. What if I... what if I hurt them?"

"We aren't our parents, Bren. Booth isn't his dad, Jack wanted nothing to do with his parents, I'm certainly nothing like mine, and you... you aren't going to leave your family behind. You're going to love Booth, and that little child of yours, for the rest of your life."

She smiled gratefully. "A part of me knows that's true, but... irrationally, the fear is still present. Of course, fear is always irrational, and it... seems to be following me around a great deal lately."

"Understandably, if you ask me. Seriously, Brennan, I'm pretty freaked out myself. And, oh God, no _wonder_ Booth is so on edge! I don't even want to imagine how Hodgins would be handling it..."

She sighed and looked away, and Ange was quick to apologize.

"Right, you don't want to hear any more about how worried everyone is. Sorry. Here..." she stood, scooped a book off the table, and then plopped herself down right next to her friend on the couch, flipping it open to a random page. "This book is _amazing_. I got it from a friend of mine, and I look through it just about every day. Take a look." She pushed it over so it was half on her lap, and Brennan flipped a few pages, raising her eyebrow.

The book was thick, hardcover, and completely filled with the latest trends in baby fashion. It had everything from outfits to cribs, and it rated companies on scales of one to ten as well as pointing out helpful tips in the columns.

"I intend to buy everything completely based on this. If it were all up to me, I'd have everything already bought, and I'd be busy painting the baby room, but Jack thought it would be best to wait. I think that, while he trusts my intuition, he wants to be one hundred percent sure it's a boy before we go crazy with the blue, and the race cars and cowboys, and whatever else I might happen to find. Oh!" she gasped suddenly, her eyes widening and her expression instantly transforming into a total mask of excitement. "Bren, we are going _shopping_ together! This is going to be... oh, this is going to be absolutely _amazing_."

To her surprise, the idea of going on a baby supply shopping expedition with Angela wasn't immediately terrifying. In fact... it actually sounded like a lot of... fun. Ange would make things easier, and she was sure to feel a lot better about her purchases if her friend was gushing over them throughout the trip.

"And... oh, we need a baby shower... we should have ours together, and it will be so great... Bren, can I tell you how glad I am that Booth got you knocked up?"

A laugh escaped her lips before she could stop it, and before she knew it she was totally lost. There was just something about Angela's planning that she just found hilarious. It might have also had something to do with just how _tired_ she was, but she couldn't seem to get control of herself. The artist was having a similar problem, and it was only when someone cleared their throat that the two of them looked up and realized they were no longer alone.

"Having fun?" Booth asked with a raised eyebrow. A bleary eyed Hodgins stood slightly behind him, resting an arm on the doorframe and looking like he had no idea what was going on. In comparison, Booth looked like he hadn't gotten any sleep at all, and his eyes were sparkling with amusement as he took in the sight of her and Angela sprawled on the couch with tears of laughter in both of their eyes.

She nearly lost it to another fit of completely absurd giggles that really didn't fit her in any way. Sleep would probably be a _really _good idea, seeing as it was obvious that she was losing brain cells by the minute.

Booth chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, it's bed time, girls. Bones, if I have to carry you to our room, I will."

She shook her head, disentangling herself from her friend and getting to her feet. "I'm... I'm fine," she managed, although she was having a hard time catching her breath.

"Right, sure," Booth muttered, rolling his eyes but still smiling with good humor. "Jack, you might want to see if any of your hard liquor is missing."

Angela was on her feet too, by now, and she punched him lightly in the arm. "Relax, G-man, we behaved ourselves. And anyways... we aren't that irresponsible." She winked at him, and he frowned and then turned to Brennan, tilting his head accusingly.

"In my defense, she already knew. Claims she knew before we even did, actually."

"Of course," he muttered.

"What are you all going on about?" Hodgins mumbled, staring blankly from one of them to the next, obviously not awake enough to remember anything they were saying in the morning.

"Nothing, Jack. Come on, let's get to bed. We've got work in the morning."

He gave a disheartened grumble, and then turned to shuffle out of the doorway.

Brennan and Angela shared one last knowing look, barely stifling fresh pointless laughter as though they were fifteen again, and then followed their men in opposite directions down the hallway to their rooms.

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**I know that not much happened, but it's a necessary chapter for Brennan to get the chance to be semi-normal for atleast a short while.**

**Now, the IMPORTANT stuff. I need all of your help :) I need NAMES. Boy and girl would be good... I'm not going to spoil what the gender is just yet. **

**Second, I am requesting another form of help. I am looking for good _reading. _I used to open my email box to find updates on stories all the time, but recently the stories I've been following have been starting to slow down or outright end. I want to hear from all of you about the amazing Bones stories you have either read or written yourselves. I'm dying for something well-written and angsty, and I will be forever grateful to anyone that sends me to something I haven't found. :)**

**Thank you all, as always, for all your reviews and alerts, and for being so patient with me and my sporadic updating.  
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	38. Chapter 38

**First off, thank you all so much for the reviews on the last chapter, and all your suggestions for reading as well as names :) **

**I haven't had time to read them all yet, but I'm getting started and it's nice to have a list of them sitting by for days when I'm bored and the writing just won't flow. As to the names... I've already picked through them and found a nice list of ones that I really like. Credit will be given when they are introduced :)**

**I'd like to apologize for the slight delay in getting this chapter up... this one was a bit of a struggle to get through, but I got it done, and it's actually a decent length! I hope you enjoy :)**

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"I have no idea what to get for her!" Booth hissed furiously, but Angela only smirked at him. He again glanced over his shoulder, checking to be sure that his girlfriend was still on the platform. She was, again, poring over the same set of bones, determined to find something new that would lead them to whoever this was that was stalking her. She'd been at it since he'd dropped her off, and still nothing had come of it. He wanted to take her to get some lunch, but she'd been snappy all morning, and her mood had not improved at all. He wasn't really sure that taking her away from the lab was going to help it, to be honest.

"You probably know her better than I do," Angela pointed out, eyeing him up and down pointedly. He rolled his eyes.

"Ange, now is _not_ the time for you to start chatting about my sex life. You're her best friend, and you just throw this whole idea of a baby shower at me and expect me to know what I'm doing."

"Technically, you don't need to get anything. You're not even supposed to _attend_ because you are _certainly_ not female, but we're making an exception. Don't worry about it."

"And what about, y'know..." he glanced over his shoulder again, saw that she was still thoroughly occupied, and turned back to mutter, "Her _birthday?"_

"Ah, he hasn't forgotten. What a relief."

"I'm serious, you do realize that, right?"

"You have a month, handsome. Don't sweat it."

"Not funny. Ange, she hasn't let me get her anything _ever_, or let me acknowledge the day ever since I found out when it was, from you, if you remember... but this year is different. I'm not going to just pretend it's not her birthday because that's what she wanted in the past. You know her... she acts like she doesn't want stuff because she doesn't want to be disappointed. If I didn't do anything for it, at _all_... she'd be upset, and she probably wouldn't even tell me she was. But she _would_ be, and that's the _point_."

"Alright, alright, don't get your panties in a bunch. Why don't you just tell me what she likes, and maybe something will come to mind. Although, to be honest, while I really would like to have this conversation, I would really prefer not to do it right _now._"

He sighed. "You're killing me here."

"And you're killing me. You realize that your girlfriend, currently the human tornado, is going to murder me if I don't have this sketch finished when she comes to get it?"

"I highly doubt Bones would be capable of laying a finger on you, Ange. Besides, what does she even need a sketch for?"

It was Angela's turn to sigh, as she flipped open her sketchpad to reveal the face of a young woman. It was obvious Ange wasn't quite finished with it—for one, there was only one eye and no hair. "You interrupted me," she said firmly, as if feeling that she had to explain why it was so incomplete. "It's for a limbo case. And don't even try to tell her to work on one thing at a time... she already freaked this morning while you were over at the FBI... yelling about how we couldn't put everything on hold for one case, and how she was already wasting all her resources just to find nothing over and over again... the only way I got her to calm down was by leaving her in peace and taking the next cold case we had on file. The _minute_ she finishes going over that skeleton for the hundredth time today, she's going to be storming in here, pissed off. It's your choice if you want to be here to suffer the consequences when that happens. But hey, if you find a way to get her to relax... that would be great."

"Do you think it's the hormones, or the stress?" he asked hesitantly.

"Both. And it's _not_ a pretty mix. Either leave, or make yourself into a lovely human shield that I can put in front of me."

He raised his hands in mock surrender, and then vacated her office.

God, what was he going to do with his Bones? He knew it wasn't her fault... she had a psycho after her who was _very_ skilled at hiding his identity, and on top of it she was facing a pregnancy and... well, him, he supposed. She knew that he was trying to protect her because he loved her... she'd told him as much. That didn't mean she was as accepting of it when she lost herself in the work and things didn't turn out so well. Which was exactly what was happening right now.

He didn't even want to think about the conversation he was going to have to have with her at some point today... reminding her of her father's impending visit. Under normal circumstances, it could have probably waited, but Saturday was getting alarmingly closer and he needed to either make reservations or prepare himself for a thrilling evening in their apartment... which would probably entail him helping prepare the meal. If he knew her well enough, and he did, she wouldn't allow him to simply order take-out and pretend that it had just come out of the oven.

And under equally normal circumstances, he also wouldn't have minded cooking with her... but it was stressful enough on a _regular_ day to have to deal with Max Keenan. To have to do it while the man didn't know about his daughter's pregnancy—something that he didn't plan on him finding out about _any_ time soon—as well as having a stalker trying to get to her—yet another thing that the murderously protective Max did _not_ need to be aware of—oh, it was going to be a great weekend.

Steeling himself, he slid his card through the system and jogged up the steps as the familiar sound let him know he was cleared. She looked up, a glare already set on her face, but it smoothed somewhat when she saw that it was him, and he felt himself relaxing as he saw that he wasn't going to be attacked. At least, not right away.

"Hey," he said softly, stepping over to her and gently putting his arms around her so he could warmly press his lips up against hers.

She smiled slightly against his lips before pulling back, and then gestured at the stark white skeleton that lay before them on the metal examination table. "I'm just about ready to give up."

"Hey, there might not be anything here, but we will find _something_. You know... they're bringing in the neighbors, and I'm questioning them after my lunch break... you wouldn't want to come along, would you?"

"If I'm being honest, I'd say that I probably am going to go crazy if I look at this skeleton again. Lunch first, you said?"

"You bet."

He helped her out of her lab coat, barely able to believe his luck. Who said mood swings were a bad thing? So far they were serving him just perfectly. He waved cheerfully to Angela as they passed by her office, and the artist just shook her head incredulously before turning back to her sketch.

"So, Ange tells me that you've got the team working multiple cases at once."

The conversation had been going rather smoothly, and they were up to their usual bickering and stealing food from one another's plates, so he thought it might be okay to try and get a few answers from her, and figure out what was going on in her head. From the sharp look that he sent him, though, he was starting to doubt how wise that decision might have been.

"I thought it unwise to focus all of our attentions on something that clearly wasn't going anywhere."

"You mean you thought that people were taking time away from other people's murders in order to prevent yours... and you thought that was a bad idea?"

She gritted her teeth, and he could tell she was contemplating the idea of just getting up and leaving altogether. Evidently something made her stay, because her face relaxed a moment later, and she said curtly, "We already did everything we could; now we just have to wait for more evidence to come through."

"If all goes well, we'll have that after this afternoon."

She shrugged and calmly picked up a fry and popped it in her mouth.

"Ange and I discussed baby names," she said after a moment, and he raised an eyebrow. If she was suggesting they change the conversation to _this_, then she really must want the other topic dropped. Either that, or the hormones were _really_ getting to her.

"Did you come up with anything good?" he asked finally, using the bite of hamburger he had been chewing as his excuse for the prolonged pause. It must have been the conversation the two of them had last night, he decided, too. From the way Ange talked, there was no way they'd had a sit-down-and-relax type of conversation anytime today.

"Nothing for us... I told her we weren't starting on that just yet. She's come up with several interesting ones, though. Phoenix, Napoleon... do you think we should be thinking of unique names, too? I told her it might not be such a good idea, but-"

"Bones, whatever you want, as long as it's not too out there, and I'll be behind it one hundred percent."

She scowled. "But I don't want you to be. You're supposed to have your _own_ opinions, Booth, otherwise it defeats the purpose."

He chuckled, and her eyes softened somewhat in response. He was glad. Leave it to her, though, to always argue her side... and when he simply gave her all the leeway she wanted, to argue that he _needed_ to fight for his. He wouldn't have it any other way, though, because that's part of what he loved about her... how she never ceased to surprise him.

"Fine, then... do you have any ideas you want to run by me to get this opinion from?"

Her smile widened. "A few. What do you think of Everett?"

"Sounds like the mountain," he responded instantly, an innocent smile plastered on his face. Her eyebrows shot upwards; she hadn't been expecting such a quick—and honest—answer.

"Alright then, how about Oliver?"

"What are we going for with that one? 'Please sir, may I have some more?'"

She glared, but he knew she wasn't seriously angry with him. "Fine then, how about Joseph?"

"Nuh uh, Bones, we aren't using my middle name. Unless, that is, you want to put yours out there to be used as well. Speaking of which... why won't you just tell me what your middle name _is_?"

"Because I don't want to," she said firmly. He rolled his eyes. "Do _you_ have any name ideas to offer?" she pushed, changing the topic back.

"How about Annabelle, or Avery?"

She wrinkled her nose, and he reminded himself that she had decided it was a boy. There was still time for her to be wrong, though.

"What, you don't like my choices?"

"Too girly. And I don't like names that start with 'A'."

"Wow, aren't we picky."

She slapped his arm lightly, and stole another of his fries.

"Colby," he suggested seriously.

"That... might actually have some promise."

"Wow, and here I was, minding my own business, thinking that I was gonna get shot down again..."

She went to steal another fry in retaliation, but he grabbed the plate and yanked it away, raising an index finger warningly. She sat back with a mock-angry huff.

"Alex?"

Her mouth twisted to the side the way it did whenever she was considering something but getting ready to say no anyways, and he wasn't disappointed. "I don't think so. It just doesn't... click."

He chuckled, and she glared again.

"What, I'm not allowed to know that phrase?"

"I never said that. In fact, I'm very impressed. Here," he picked up a fry, dipped it into the ketchup, and held it out towards her. She made to take it, but he pulled it back and tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. She crossed her arms.

"Booth, I am not eating off your fingers."

"Don't make me do airplane noises. You know I will."

She went to snatch it again, but only succeeded in getting a lovely amount of the red sauce across her finger.

"Look what you did!"

"What _I_ did?" he exclaimed on a laugh. "You seriously-"

Just like that, the fry was gone from his hand and she had already popped it in her mouth. She grinned cheekily back at him as she chewed, and he glared.

There was silence for a moment, when neither of them reinitiated the discussion, and just like that the light atmosphere was gone. She shifted and looked out the window, feeling the change just as surely as he did.

"Bones, about your dad coming over this weekend-"

"It was a bad idea. I know, Booth. I'm aware."

"That's... not what I was going to say at all, actually. I was going to ask if you wanted to go out to dinner, or stay at your apartment."

She opened her mouth and then shut it again, her face flushing slightly. "Oh."

He smiled ruefully. "It's okay, Bones, I understand. This... it was unexpected, but we're going to turn it into something positive, alright?"

She bit her lip, nodding in hesitant agreement.

"Now, home cooked meal, or fancy night out?"

She actually cracked a smile, and he felt the tenseness in his shoulders lighten somewhat as her face relaxed. "I'm paying if we go out. Does that change which one you prefer?"

He contemplated for a moment, wondering where he now stood on the issue. Going out had seemed like the best idea earlier, but now... he was wondering if he really wanted to get dressed up and make polite conversation with soft music playing in the background. There was the guarantee of seeing Bones all dolled-up and pretty in one of those gorgeous curve-hugging dresses that he assumed Angela had something to do with... but then again, there was also the comfort of sitting around a table and having a safe, but unforced, talk with her father. And did it really matter what they looked like? While it might be nice to see her sparkling and beautiful—with the intent to impress him, even if she would deny it—she was always beautiful. He always said she could make even sweats look like the sexiest thing in the world. She disagreed, but he wasn't budging on the point.

"Why don't we stay in?" he suggested finally, his eyes twinkling as he mentally went through the possibilities for what they could cook. As long as he could convince her to either not go to work at all, or to at least leave early, he'd be perfectly happy to make the meal with her by his side to help.

She seemed to have picked up on his positive mood towards the idea, because she brightened as well. "Sounds good. What are we having, though?"

"Eh, we'll figure it out when we get there. Right now, though, we should probably be getting back to the Hoover building. We've got some people to interrogate!"

She laughed at his enthusiasm as he clapped his hands together and rubbed them together, leaning forward over the table. It didn't stop her from forcing him to let her pay for her half of their meals, though.

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"Dr. Brennan, Agent Booth. Good to see you both." He closed his eyes and rolled his neck back slightly, running his tongue along his lower lip. To turn around, or not to turn around...

Bones solved the problem for him, in a way that he sort of wished she hadn't. But he shouldn't have expected less. She was the one to turn around and confront the psychologist.

"Sweets. We're here on business, not to see you."

To his credit, the young man didn't seem at all intimidated by her abrasive tone. Of course, he'd had quite some time to get used to it, but there was a time when it would have ruffled him or at the very least provoked an indignant response.

"I know. Carry on."

She tipped her head in a half-nod, and spun on her heel to go into the interrogation room. Booth remained firmly where he was, eyeing the shrink suspiciously.

"You're going to watch us, aren't you?"

"It's my job; take it up with Cullen if you disapprove. Oh, and I'll see you two after we're done here. We need to schedule another appointment."

Just what he needed to hear. Without actually giving a response, he followed his partner and firmly shut the door behind him, leaving Sweets standing in the hallway.

Brennan was waiting for him, standing just inside the door with her arms crossed over her chest. She had already sized up the man sitting on the other side of the table, and seemed to be a tad unimpressed by him. Booth couldn't really blame her, to be honest. He was scraggly, with a pale and sunken face. From the way his eyes darted, he was willing to guess that the man had definite affiliations with drugs, and probably alcohol as well. His fingers were tapping ceaselessly on the table, and they didn't stop as he dragged both the chairs out. He let her sit first before dropping into his own chair and leaning forward to prop his elbows on the table.

"So, Mr. Sullivan. Thank you for coming down."

"Y'know, you people... you people don't give me much of no choice, y'know."

He felt Brennan's eyes slide towards him, as if to say 'this can't seriously be a witness that's going to help us,' but he ignored it and kept his eyes locked on the target.

"And why is that, Mr. Sullivan?" he asked calmly.

The man just shook his head, which made his dirty hair flail back and forth across his face. His eyes switched to Brennan for a moment, twitching up and down her body before Booth's hand slammed down on the table. The one flaw with having a gorgeous girlfriend—all the scumbags took interest. This was the first time she'd been with him in the interrogation room in quite some time, he realized suddenly.

Sullivan jumped in his seat at the sudden, and loud, sound. "Dude!" he complained.

"Don't 'dude' me. We found some interesting baggies in your car, Mr. Sullivan. Have any idea what we're going to get back on the results when they test them? Because, you know, those tests don't really take long at all. From your record, you obviously know what possession can get you."

"Man, I'm here, alright? I'm here, just... just ask me some questions, alright?"

"Alright then, tell us about your neighbor, Tim Sampson."

"Dude, I didn't actually know the guy!"

"Well, I guess that's it, Bones," he said with a shrug, moving to stand up. "We'll just pass on that you were uncooperative, and see if one of the other neighbors knows more..."

"Wait, wait!"

Booth reseated himself, and motioned for the nervous man across from him to speak.

"Okay, I didn't talk to him much, but the guy... he was a totally nut bar, I'm telling you."

"How so?" Bones spoke up from beside him.

"He was obsessed with his job... all he talked about was this scientist lady and his 'big break'... I swear, I doubt she even existed. Y'know, a few screws loose up there, and all?"

Brennan looked like she was about to correct him, but he spoke up quickly to avoid it. He didn't need anyone knowing who she was, even if they weren't directly involved. There just wasn't any reason for this loser to have that information.

"Did you ever see anything suspicious, besides his obsession?"

"He was always lugging around a lot of equipment... had a ton of cameras."

Booth nodded quickly, and then posed his next question, which he was most desperate to have an answer to.

"Have you seen anyone at his house recently?"

"Well, I saw him. I mean... he does _live_ there. But that was like..." he paused, calculating in his head for a very long time. "A couple weeks ago, you know, man. Haven't seen him since then. Hey, is it true that he's _dead?"_

They both exchanged a look, and it was her that pressed forward with the next question.

"Are you sure it was _him_ that you saw just a few weeks ago."

"Well, I mean, he usually where's these like... baseball caps. But I mean, I _thought_ it was him. Was he like, killed in a robbery or something? Hey, if no one comes to claim his stuff, can I help clean out the house? I've got these loans that I need to pay off, and-"

"We're still looking for his family, Mr. Sullivan. We'll call you back if we have any other questions for you."

"So, like... am I good with the whole... possession charge and stuff?"

"That's up to your parole officer. He'll be paying you a visit, so I'd suggest not skipping town unless you want to spend a long while back in the joint."

The man gave an overly-eager nod, his eyes wide, and Booth stood from his seat, rolling his eyes to himself as he opened the door for Bones and followed her out.

Sweets emerged from the observation room at almost the same time, and hurried to catch them as they started in the opposite direction.

"Hey, we talked about this! Evasion techniques, truth zone, avoiding our fears?"

He strongly resisted the urge to roll his eyes again as he scowled at the young man in front of them.

"We need to set up an appointment for the both of you. This new case is clearly putting a toll on your personal as well as your working relationship. We need to _discuss_ it, in order to move past it."

He cast her a look laden with meaning, and she understood it immediately. They both turned their backs at the same moment and continued on their way up the hall. The psychologist jogged behind them to catch up.

"We'll call you," Booth threw over his shoulder, and gradually the shrink fell back until he simply stood in the hallway and watched them go.

"Where are we going?" she asked him curiously as they rounded a corner. "I thought we had a few more of the neighbors to question?"

"We do. We're just ditching the kid, getting some coffee, and then heading back. Besides, we have to wait for them to situate our next interrogation and all. They've got the whole street waiting around down the hall... hopefully Don's set up some sort of list for who's going first, because apparently there's a real host of characters in there."

"Fun," she commented under her breath.

"Hey, whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this, right?"

She nodded emphatically, resolve showing firmly in her gaze. "Right."


	39. Chapter 39

**Hello all. Sorry for the slow update... but hey, two weeks is pretty good by my standards, isn't it? No? Alright, fine, I'll try to do better in the future. Summer is coming to a close though, so I can't make many promises. *is dreading the start of school***

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"Thank you for your time, Mrs. Korowski," Booth said as the elderly woman made her way out into the hallway. She made a sort of grunt in acknowledgement, clearly still displeased that she had even had to come at all.

"Thank god that's over," she muttered as she shook her head, leaning against the hard black walls of the interrogation room.

He chuckled. "What's the matter, Bones? Couldn't handle just one more loony from semi-suburbia?"

"Whatever that street is, it isn't even close to suburbia, Booth. The culture of the suburbs, for instance, wouldn't stand for a crazy cat lady on the corner, or a former wrestler that likes to listen to rap music at top volume at one in the morning. Did you notice how they seemed so uninterested in giving us information, and much more fascinated with implicating their neighbors?"

"They're quite the backstabbing bunch, aren't they? A real cheerful lot."

"I hope that's sarcasm," she muttered tiredly, rubbing the side of her head. "Ugh, I think I'm getting a headache..."

"Not surprising," he said lightly. "Come on, let's head to my office. I think I've got some pills stashed in my desk that might help with that."

Sweets accosted them in the hallway, which she really should have been expecting. She found herself much more annoyed than she would have been earlier.

"I'm not in the mood to deal with him," she said firmly to Booth, ignoring the fact that the man she was referring to could hear every word she was saying.

"Don't worry, babe, I'll handle it..."

She smacked him firmly on the back of the head.

"Ow!"

"Don't call me 'babe'," she said with a glare.

"Guys. Guys!"

"What part of 'we'll call you' did your twelve-year-old brain not get?" Booth snapped irritably.

"Oh come on, listen to yourself! That is so totally a defense mechanism. You do realize that, don't you? You both _want _to talk, you're just afraid of what the other one will think if you say that, because you're so used to using me as the third person to attack in order to form a stronger bond between yourselves!"

She could see that Booth was ready to pin the man against a wall and show him that he wasn't going to put up with his crap, not right now, but she beat him to it verbally, using her words like poisoned arrow tips as she spat them at him.

"I have had a very long day, and I am exhausted. If you know what is good for you, you will _shut up_ and leave us _alone_. Are we clear?"

She had managed to invade his personal space at the same time, and he visibly gulped and took a step back. The shrink was silent as she stayed in that same stance for a prolonged moment, her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flaring. And then, without warning, she spun on her heel and stalked away, brushing past Booth without so much as a glance.

Her anger, so quick to suddenly flare up, vanished in a flash the moment she was around the corner, and then she just felt completely drained. It was late by now, past five o'clock... just about time for them to be heading back to the apartment for the night. Normally, she would have insisted on returning to the lab to get as much done as possible... but today she just wasn't up to it, and for once she was ready to admit it. There was absolutely no way she was looking at another bone today, no matter what the context was.

It was only when Booth caught up to her and spun her around to face him that she realized she was crying. His eyes flicked helplessly across her face, taking in the tears and the blank expression she wore.

"Hey, hey... what's wrong? Come on, talk to me," he pleaded, one hand tracing down her arm, the other gently reaching up to cup her cheek. His thumb brushed away a few tears, and his eyes locked with hers, willing her to respond.

"I'm just tired," she said at last. "Today has been... today has been very trying. Can we just... go home? Please?"

Confusion flitted across his face first, and then concern, but thankfully he didn't argue and simply placed a hand on her back and guided her to the elevator. It was probably very lucky that they didn't even catch a glimpse of Sweets as they made their way through the building and out of the main doors. In the state she was in, he would have had more ammo than she would like for their next encounter. She wasn't sure she would have been able to handle that.

When they got to the car, the tears had completely stopped. She grabbed a tissue out of the glove compartment and brushed at her face, cleaning away all the tracks they had left across her skin.

"Are you going to tell me what's really going on with you?" he asked, and he was a bit more forceful and probing with the question than she would have expected from him normally. She was glad of his firm attitude, though.

"What's going on with me is that I'm pregnant, and apparently it's a bit harder to control my emotions than I would like. I've never encountered this problem during my monthly cycle... the hormones are clearly much stronger, and the situation, the whole day, just got to me somehow."

"Right. Never had this problem before, huh, Bones?" his tone was suddenly light and teasing.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh nothing. Nothing at all. Let's get home and get something to eat, though, huh? What are you in the mood for? Any cravings, anything like that?"

"Just because I'm having mood swings does not mean I'm going to fit every aspect of pregnancy symptoms, Booth. I would like Thai for supper, just like any normal night."

"Alright," he agreed with a shrug, "Thai it is."

* * *

"You're not going to throw this all up in the morning, are you?"

She scowled across the counter.

"If men were physically able to carry unborn children, you wouldn't ask questions like that."

He laughed, "Alright, fine, point taken."

"Besides," she added, chewing a long strand of noodle, "I haven't felt nauseous in a while now... I'm fairly certain I'm past the morning sickness portion of the pregnancy. I wouldn't be complaining, either, especially around Angela or Hodgins."

"Yeah, they had it a lot worse."

She nodded, scooping up another forkful of vegetables.

"You didn't say much after we finished questioning the neighbors," she commented suddenly, and his eyebrow quirked up in surprise. She was waiting for him to say something in response, but when it became clear he wasn't going to, she calmly added, "I was wondering if you had any new theories. And I was sort of wondering why you wouldn't be sharing them, if you did. Because I know that you probably do. You _usually_ do." She stopped short, frowning to herself, and then avoided his eyes.

"Are you more worried that I don't have new theories, or that I do?" His voice was soft, probing. Like he was afraid of frightening a scared animal. She gritted her teeth, but forced herself to answer his question. He was just being Booth; she couldn't begrudge him for his concern, not after all the times that had only led them into pointless arguments.

"Both would... worry me," she said, her voice halting hesitantly in the middle. His expression was open, and almost... apologetic, though. It had the frustrating effect of putting her at ease with no effort on his part.

"I'm not keeping things from you, Bones. I promise. I just didn't think that it was such a good time to discuss it... we were both tired; we had a long day... I just didn't want to bring anything else up. Y'know, a relaxing supper... a romantic evening..."

She gave him a knowing smile, but shook her head. "Not today, Booth. I don't think I'll ever be able to fully relax until after this is over."

"Huh. I remember you telling me before something about 'burning off steam in a constructive manner'..."

She leaned forward to punch his shoulder, laughing despite herself.

"Tell me your thoughts on the case. Please."

"Alright, alright. You win."

He chewed thoughtfully through another bite of chicken, dropping his fork back into the container and raising a finger into the air to signal her to wait a second. He stared at the ceiling, and the swallowed.

"Most of them, as you saw, were completely useless."

"A good portion of witnesses never realize the importance of what they see, and therefore become unreliable in trying to remember something they marked as insignificant at the time."

He nodded, "But there were a few, like Ms. Gustavson from the house across the street, who know a lot more than they're telling us."

"I thought she was very helpful."

The single woman, who lived only with her five cats—not quite on the level of a crazy cat lady, but definitely aspiring to it—had occupied the small green house across from Sampson's ramshackle home for the past ten years. Sampson had only moved in six years prior, so she had seen the entire span of his time in the neighborhood. And she was quite the nosy neighbor, to top it off. Not someone Brennan would like to live next to, but someone that might prove invaluable in solving this case. What she didn't understand was what Booth was implying.

"Why would she have anything to hide?"

He sighed, and—did his cheeks just redden?—he glanced away. "To be quite blunt, I think she _enjoyed_ being brought in for questioning. Just a bit too much. She'll be back with some new piece of information, mark my words."

The faucet dripped in the background as she tried to recall the exact questioning from several hours ago... and then her eyes widened, and she pointed accusingly at him, a grin spreading rapidly across her face. "She _likes_ you!" The smile vanished as a frown took it's place. Maybe she didn't trust this woman as much as she'd thought. It should have been quite evident that the two of them were a couple... they hadn't even been a couple back when they had been questioned almost daily by people they ran into on cases about their 'relationship.' Nowadays, it had to be ten times more evident that they were involved.

The last woman from a case that had become interested in seeing Booth again despite being questioned once had later tried to shoot her, and succeeded in shooting _him_ instead. That memory would forever be seared in her memory, and it was a guarantee that it would come to the forefront of her mind every time they ran into a situation that even slightly mimicked the circumstances.

"Relax, Bones. She's not going to encroach on your territory or whatever your 'alpha-female-tendencies' are telling you." As though he could read her mind, he followed up with, "And if there's anything, y'know, _wrong_ with her, Sweets will be all over it. Last time... this just isn't last time, okay? And the _last_ thing I need right now, is for you to be worrying about me. If you want to worry about my well-being, worry about yourself. Because that's all I'm worried about, got it?"

She managed a slight smile, and then nodded towards him, "Alright, what else did you pick up on?"

"So far, we've gotten that he moved in on April 19th, 2004. He kept mostly to himself, but he purchased a camera at Mr. and Mrs. Redman's yard sale last July. All of the other neighbors corroborate that he had a collection of camera's and equipment, and that he probably never left the house without at least some of them."

"We already knew that, from all the pictures we found in his attic."

"Yeah, but what I don't get... is how everyone knew that he had this camera obsession—saw him with his equipment often enough to pick up on it—and yet no one, not _one_ of them, can tell us about someone else coming and going from his house in the past six months."

"They had to have gotten in from the strip of woods behind his house."

"Yeah, but that doesn't explain where they parked their vehicle, or why no one on his side of the street ever noticed something strange. There was a window in that attic, facing the street. Why didn't anyone see _lights_ on?"

"That... doesn't make sense."

"Exactly. I'm curious to see what Sweets has to say about it, to be honest; but at the same time I don't want to deal with him trying to pick apart our 'emotions' about the case."

"I'm surprised that he hasn't asked for us to be removed from it. He usually would, with the personal nature of it."

"He's got his reasons. Although, given what happened last time we had a personal case... I'm surprised he's not more involved."

"We said we'd call him," she remembered, sighing and dropping her head to rest on her propped up hand. "I really don't care to think about dealing with him either, though."

"Eh, I'll call sometime tomorrow. Let's just... I don't know, be the two of us, tonight, without him getting involved. What are the chances of him letting me make an appointment and then just hang up?"

"Not good, given his history."

"Tomorrow it is, then."

"What I found interesting was Mr. Daniels claim that he saw Sampson just a few days ago."

"Yeah, and in a rush to get his stuff out to a van. What he saw was whoever this creep is unloading all his important stuff because he knew we were on the way."

"Clearly, this man must look a lot like Sampson in order to be mistaken for him. Perhaps Ange can question him and do a sketch?"

"We can always try, but the guy was pretty adamant that it was actually Sampson. It wouldn't do any good, is my guess. We already _know_ what Sampson looks like."

"He had to have disguised himself someway... it wouldn't be hard to get a wig to look like Sampson's hair, and Daniels said he was wearing sunglasses, too."

"My guess would be that he knew Sampson hadn't been reported missing, so he thought it would most inconspicuous to the neighbors if the man himself showed up. They probably already suspected he had moved, since none of them reported his absence either. It wouldn't be at all out of the ordinary for him to show up and start carrying things to his van. And it clearly worked... no one called the police."

"Why _wasn't_ he reported missing, though?" That small detail had been bothering her ever since they'd gotten the case.

"From what we've been able to figure out, he had one brother that moved out of the country, and he was estranged from his parents long before he went missing. His father died a year ago, and his mother is in California, where he's originally from. I'm going to his work tomorrow to question his boss and coworkers... If you aren't too busy in the lab, I'd like you to tag along."

"Booth, nothing has moved in that lab, as far as this case goes, in far too long for my liking. I'm not going to spend another mind-numbing day staring at evidence that isn't going to change. Particles aren't going to magically appear for Hodgins to look at, and markings from a murder weapon aren't going to materialize on the bones for me to study."

He grinned, "Alright then. What do you say we head to the newspaper's headquarters early tomorrow, do some questioning, and then find a nice restaurant and have a quality lunch?"

"That sounds agreeable," she said, "But I want to pick the restaurant."

"Of course you do," he chuckled.

She just grinned, and reached forward to snag a long noodle that was hanging out of her carton, holding it up over her head so she could drop the strand into her mouth.

As if this were a cue, Booth reached forward to pick up his own container and stick another piece of chicken in his mouth. "Almost forgot the food... jeez, look what you do to me, woman. Got me all side-tracked with a table of heaven sitting right in front of me."

She smacked him lightly on the shoulder. "I am not 'woman.' I'm Bones."

He laughed, "You know I love you, right?"

A frown slowly made it's way across her face, drawing her eyebrows together. "Of course. Why?"

"Expression, Bones. It's an expression."

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**So... feedback would be appreciated, as always. I know, nothing much really happened in this chapter, but things are going to speed up pretty soon. After all, I still want this to be a solid 50 chapters. **


	40. Chapter 40

**Hello everyone :) I know; it's been quite a while since my last update. This chapter was a struggle, but it's rather long, so maybe that will make up for it. What with school starting up, I've been really pressed for time. I'm hoping to have the next chapter up in less than two weeks, but I can't make any promises. :(**

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"Let me tell you, this is just... weird."

"Yes, you've said that three times now," Brennan said rather testily, casting him a glance that clearly said she didn't think much of this man's intelligence.

He opened his mouth to tell the man to move on already, but he was already speaking again.

"You have to understand, I remember Sampson very clearly, and he wrote countless stories, all of which I rejected, about _you_. He had tons of pictures... used to bother the other reporters about which ones they thought went best with which story. They were creeped out. _I_ was creeped out."

"Mr. Wright, could you please just... show us to you office so you could answer some questions we have?"

"What? Oh, err, of course, of course... Here, right this way." He waved them down the row of cubicles, and Booth watched with dull humor as all the heads which had been peering over the tops of them immediately popped out of sight and the air filled with the sound of rustling pages and typing. He was never so grateful of how much field work he did for his job; this place reminded him of the office building where the woman's body had been found crushed in the elevator shaft.

The boss's office was a small and untidy room with dirty glass walls and a desk that took up too much space. The computer was sleek and shiny; quite obviously the favorite possession in comparison to the other dingy items that surrounded the workspace. Bones was looking around with her lip curling up in unrestrained disgust as she eyed the overflowing trashcan and a sludgy brown stain that was steadily being added to by the drip from a tipped coffee cup.

"Mr. Wright, could you tell us a bit about Mr. Sampson before we move on to questioning your employees?"

"I... yeah, sure." He looked like he wanted to make another comment about how strange the situation was—his eyes kept darting back and forth between the two of them, staying a fraction of a second longer on her each time—but he wisely kept it to himself. "He kept to himself a lot of the time, but he had these... moments, I guess you'd call them, where he'd surprise all of us."

"In what way?" Bones piped up, breaking her eyes away from the dying plant on top of the filing cabinet.

"Well, he'd do all his work, and sit in his office and just... y'know, act like he was invisible... and then he'd show up in my office with this great idea for a story, or he'd offer something up in a meeting that would just blow us away. That's part of the reason we kept him around for so long, really. I mean, great worker... but he had his quirks. Couldn't work _with_ anyone, for one. I had one of my columnists... Greg Stewart was his name—he moved to another paper a year ago—ask Tim if he'd do a bit of a collaboration with him... and he totally freaked out. Threatened to _quit_, you know."

"So he was socially inept?" Brennan questioned, frowning.

Wright looked just about as confused by her question as she was by what they were learning about Sampson. He considered intervening, but then just chose to let it play out.

"I... what?"

"He didn't know how to act around his coworkers?" she rephrased, now tilting her head and drawing her eyebrows further together. Her tone had taken on her familiar incredulous tint, as though she couldn't understand how the person she was speaking with could possibly not understand what she was saying.

"Oh. Well, I guess you could put it that way... it was really his whole obsession with Tem— I mean _you_—that threw us for a loop, though. I mean, I told you, he was pretty damn isolated before that whole thing started up. After he got hooked... he'd freak out if anyone questioned him about it, started hiding his notes... taking more and more of his stuff home with him. I thought he might actually be getting ready to quit, and to be honest, I was pretty relieved. I've never liked firing people, and it was starting to get towards the point where he was becoming a liability to the paper."

Booth wasn't surprised that the guy didn't have the guts to fire anyone. How he got to be head of the newspaper was something he was really starting to question. From the look on Brennan's face, the same thought had already crossed her mind.

"We never found any parts of an article," she said suddenly, turning to face him directly.

"Did he leave anything behind?" Booth immediately asked Wright.

"Just his office supplies... we did eventually have to let him go, and he cleaned out everything of his. He was pretty thorough with it, too. Not a trace of him in this place... he even vacuumed his cubicle's floor."

"How about a laptop?" Brennan queried, unhindered by the disappointing news.

"Oh yeah, he had one. He practically lived on that thing. That's where you'd find all of his articles... never printed out anything unless it was done. He kept all his notes in a notepad, though. I think he organized longer articles on bulletin boards, too..."

"Yeah, he did," Booth said shortly. "I think that'll be all... we'll just take some of your employee's time now, and see if they know anything else. They might have known more, working alongside him and all."

"I doubt it, but you're welcome to try. I'm still just a little... shocked. I mean, first _you_ show up, after seeing so many pictures and reading so many articles by Sampson about you... and then you tell me he's _dead_..."

"We get it; you haven't quite caught up to reality yet. Thank you for your cooperation."

"Not a problem, not a problem at all."

They were just stepping out the office door when Brennan turned back and quipped one last comment, "I might suggest an air freshener."

"Y'know, I don't think that was entirely necessary," he said, half-chuckling despite himself, as the office door shut on the surprised face of the office manager.

"On the contrary, I think it was entirely necessary. He might be completely acclimated to the stench, but he's running a bad business by not thinking about what other's are forced to endure by simply stepping into that office."

He couldn't avoid a short bark of laughter, which sent the peering eyes shooting out of sight once more as they rounded the corner.

"Alright, he said that _this_ was Sampson's workspace..." Booth said as they stopped in front of a cubicle right in the middle of one row. An Indian man with thinly framed glasses turned away from his computer, staring up at them in surprise and then pulling out his iPod headphones.

"Can I... help you?"

"Clearly he isn't one of the nosy, gossipy types," Brennan commented, earning a confused stare from the man, who's cubicle label informed him was named 'Neville.'

"She just means that... you know what, never mind. Are you aware of who used to occupy this cubicle?"

"Some guy... Sam, I think? I don't really socialize much, but that's what they told me when I first got the job."

Before Brennan could point out the similarities between him and the former occupant, he hurried to pose a new question.

"His name was Timothy Sampson. We're here investigating his murder." He pulled aside his jacket to reveal the badge clipped to his belt. Neville's eyes widened. "Did you find anything... out of the ordinary when you moved your things into this space?"

"No, everything was perfectly clean... shining, even. I'm sorry, did you say this man was _murdered?"_

"Unfortunately, yes," Booth said with a firm nod. "Can you maybe tell us which of your coworkers is... the most likely to have poked into his business?"

"I'm not sure I understand what you-"

"Oh, sure you do," Booth said with a wave of hand. "There's one in every office... they dig into what everyone's doing, talk about their personal life way too much..."

Neville's eyes flicked side to side, and then he hastily stood up and peered over the tops of the cubicles before leaning forward to whisper.

"Donna. Donna Holmes."

"Right, and where might we find her?"

"Across the row, at the far right."

"Alright, thank you very much."

He turned to tell Bones where they needed to go... and found himself alone. He groaned to himself, and turned back to the man at the computer.

"You didn't happen to see..?"

"To the left," Neville provided helpfully.

Brennan was no where in sight when he stepped back into the main row. Trust her to disappear in a maze of cubicles without bothering to mention it to him.

"Bones?" he hissed, striding to the left and peering each way into the cubicles he passed on his way. The workers' made very little effort to hide the fact that they were watching him.

He found her down the end, talking with a tall blonde woman in one of the corner cubicles.

"Bones?" he asked, getting her attention. She turned towards him, as if surprised to see him. "What were you thinking, just wandering off on me?"

"We're in a secure building," she defended with a scowl. "Besides, it clearly didn't take you long to find me."

"Is this your partner?" the woman asked.

"Special Agent Seeley Booth. And you are?"

"Jenna Hapsburg. I went to college with Tempe."

He stared back and

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forth between them for a moment, blinking in confusion and wondering if he'd heard her correctly. "Wait, you went to... college together?" _And how did you end up as a writer in a shabby newspaper office, and her as a top forensic anthropologist in a reputable lab?_

"We had an English class together," Brennan filled in for him. "We helped each other study; our dorms were down the hall from each other."

He'd never really imagined meeting any old friend's of Brennan's, to be honest. Angela had sort of come with the original ensemble, and he'd never questioned that they were close, or that Brennan hadn't been very good at making friends except for her. And the last thing he'd expected was to find one of them in such a place as this, as a coworker to a creep who had been one half of a duo of crazy stalkers that had been, and were still partly, after her.

So, yeah, he was a bit skeptical.

"I can't believe I'm seeing you again after all these years, Temp. I mean... wow, college was ages ago, wasn't it? And I've read all your books... I just figured you wouldn't even know who I was anymore."

"I very rarely forget acquaintances," Brennan said. She was wearing that cute lopsided smile that meant she was much more pleased than she was letting on. It was because of that that he chose not to point out the fact that she very _rarely_ remembered anyone. This Jenna must have been important to her... probably one of the few friends she truly cared about through college.

"Okay, I've got a proposal. How about me and Bones here go and finish asking questions... and then you can come grab some lunch with us?" He would have much preferred to spend a nice quiet lunch alone with her, but it was evident she wanted to catch up with this old friend of hers, and he had a million questions buzzing around in his mind. Not the least of which was _how much information did you dish out to Sampson when you found out he was interested in your old college study-buddy?_

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"Oh God, do you remember our RA?"

At once, Brennan burst into a fit of most un-Brennan-like laughter, pointing her empty fork at the other woman as she answered, still half-chuckling, "With those _glasses_?"

"And the high reedy voice?"

As they burst into another round of laughs, Brennan's eyes sparkling, Booth stabbed a piece of chicken on his plate with a bit more force than was absolutely necessary. It had been like this every since they'd arrived at the Founding Fathers. It wasn't that he wasn't glad that she had a friend from college. In fact, he was quite happy to learn that her life prior to the Jeffersonian hadn't been entirely miserable. Brennan rarely spoke of her past, so it wasn't surprising that the tidbits he had heard about were mostly negative in nature. For this reason, he was grateful for the joy that lit up her face as they two women reminisced. For his own selfish and undeniably normal human reactions, though, he was starting to feel quite a bit left out of the situation. She'd barely even acknowledged him since the two of them had started up their little stroll down memory lane.

"He had _such _a crush on you!" Jen proclaimed. That was enough to get Booth's attention back on track. He perked up immediately, letting his fork drop onto the side of his plate and leaving his food unattended as he turned to Bones to watch her face as she answered.

She scoffed, "No he didn't! If anything, he was interested in you, and he was using me to get closer."

Jenna's mouth popped open, as though she couldn't believe that. To Booth's credit, he was sure his face looked just as surprised. Brennan had been insightful about relationships in college? What?

"Oh, come on; there's no way. He couldn't take his eyes off of you."

"And after the incident at that... party... he kept his distance."

Booth's eyes narrowed. "What happened at this... party?" he queried. For the first time, both of them turned to him, as though they'd forgotten he was even sitting there.

"Oh... _that_ party," Jenna said with a sudden nod. Their gazes connected, and they shared one of those looks that he often saw passing between her and Angela. Female understanding or something of the like. He had no clue.

"What party?" he requested again, trying not to sound as interested as he felt, because he knew that that was likely to be what clammed her up. But it didn't seem to have worked, because she cast him a quick look that asked him not to push any more, and he respectfully fell silent, picking up his fork again.

As if this were a cue, Jenna began speaking again, pulling the conversation in a new direction.

"You never did tell me what happened between you and tall 'n handsome."

She groaned, and he raised an eyebrow. This time she caught the look on his face as she shot a cursory glance in his direction, and then sighed in defeat.

_"Michael_ and I didn't work out."

"Yes, that's what you told me after you broke up with him. But you never did spill the _why_ on that."

He wasn't entirely in tune with how deep this friendship between them ran, but he could see that Jenna was most certainly testing the boundaries with this line of questioning. Despite his own curiosity, he was beginning to dislike her for the way she was making his girlfriend so uncomfortable.

"Is this the same Michael that I know?" he broke in while Brennan struggled with a response. He wasn't exactly sure if involving himself, and supplying more details, was such a wise decision... but for now he was just going to go with it.

"You met him?" Jenna asked in surprise, leaning closer. Clearly she was aware of the relationship between him and Bones. He could tell from the way she'd been asking the questions, and from the way she was eyeing him now. And clearly, Bones hadn't made that connection yet, because she was casting Jenna a rather unpleasant look as she saw the way her 'friend' was leaning closer to him.

He couldn't avoid a grin. God forgive him, but he couldn't help but like it just a _little_ that she felt tinges of jealousy just the same as he did.

From Brennan's first reaction to his statement, he'd been able to tell that the answer to his question was yes, and so he felt safe to continue, "He was a complete scumbag. Good riddance, if you ask me. Right, Bones?"

She nodded, but her eyes were still dancing between her boyfriend and her old college study partner, sizing up the situation and failing miserably.

"Shame, he was hot. So, how're things going now?"

Oh, she was just being cruel. But in a light sort of way... almost like what Angela would probably do in this situation. He could understand why these two had gotten along so well, and probably why Brennan had forged such a powerful friendship with Ange since then.

At that, Brennan finally allowed a smirk, as if she had the upper hand. "Oh, things are going quite well, actually."

"Really?" Now Jen leaned more towards her. "Do tell."

Brennan cast him an amused look. "You know how I always said I didn't believe in love?" she asked, her eyes returning to her friend.

"Of course. You practically preached it to anyone that would listen."

"I think I've... proven myself wrong."

Jenna's eyes widened, "Well then, that's an improvement. Who, pray tell, is the lucky man?"

"The lucky man is feeling rather neglected," He piped up at last, and both sets of eyes latched on to him once again, more surprised that he had spoken than at his presence this time.

"Well then. And here you had me thinking this whole time he was just your _partner_," She said exaggeratedly, making no attempt to hide her appraisal of his figure this time, and then shooting Brennan an impressed look. "FBI, huh?"

"We've been working together for five years now," he said proudly.

"Booth likes to claim that we're the best crime solving team in America," she pointed out. "And I tend to agree with him, actually, except he doesn't have any actual data on which he bases his belief."

"Somehow I really don't doubt that. Mind if I ask when you're expecting?" she added nonchalantly, as though she was asking if Bones could pass the ketchup.

For a moment, Brennan looked flustered, and then finally she blushed and asked, "How did you know?"

"I can just tell. Three of my friends have had kids, and I've just developed an eye for it, I guess."

"I'm due in mid-August," she supplied with a half-smile gracing her face. She turned to smile warmly at Booth, and he couldn't avoid grinning infectiously back at her. He had to admit, it felt good to share the news with someone. They still hadn't told many of the people they knew yet, and he was rather looking forward to when that time came. "You knew, didn't you, that Booth and I were together?"

Well, she'd picked up on that much faster than he'd been expecting.

Jenna chuckled. "Yes. It _was_ rather obvious."

Brennan gave them both a look that he recognized well; she had no idea what this all meant, or why Jenna would pretend not to know. Instead of pursuing the point, though, she chose to move on, shaking her head slightly as if to clear it of that entire thought line.

"We have reason to believe that your former coworker, Timothy Sampson, was involved in criminal activity." He was impressed with how she skirted the fact that he had been stalking _her_, and he kept silent about it. He fully intended to question Jenna on his own time later. For now, he'd see where Bones took this.

"Tim? You can't be serious. Quietest guy you'd ever see. Kept to himself, never got in anyone's way... oh, God." Her eyes widened. "That would explain all that, wouldn't it?"

"No, we think that was just his personality, regardless of anything he was trying to hide," Booth piped up. Brennan nodded her thanks to him for filling in that blank, and then spoke again.

"Did you ever see anything... suspicious? Did he work projects that he wasn't assigned to? How well did you know him?"

Jenna blinked a few times, and then stammered, "I really... I have no clue, Temp. Like I said, he kept to himself. I didn't talk to him any more than anyone else in the office... just about work stuff if it was necessary... he didn't really respond if you tried to make small talk, and as far as I know he brought his own coffee in every day. I never saw him in the kitchen getting any out of the pot."

Just like that, he knew that their little lunch-date was over. He didn't need to hear anymore to know for certain that she was hiding something. Probably a very large something. Her next words sealed the deal for him.

"Did something happen to him?"

"He was murdered," Brennan said bluntly.

"Oh my God..." Jenna choked out, her eyes huge. "Did he... what _happened?"_

"We aren't sure quite yet," Booth said firmly, placing a hand on Brennan's arm as he turned in his seat, making it clear that he was ready to get the check and leave. All of their dishes were cleaned of food by now anyways; he'd finished his last few bites of chicken during the last part of their conversation.

She looked at him oddly, but didn't confront him out loud, thank God.

"We really should be going, Jen," Brennan told her friend regretfully. "Here's my number, though..." she pulled a pen out of her purse and scrawled it on her napkin, sliding it over to her. Jenna motioned for the pen and then wrote her own number on another scrap of napkin for Brennan to take. "I'd very much like to get together again sometime soon... I had no idea that anyone from college had moved here. It was... it was very nice. Catching up and all."

"It was," Jenna agreed emphatically.

They made small talk about sports and the weather after the waiter took the check, and parted ways outside after they got their change back and Brennan forced him to let her pay for the tip.

"What was that all about?" she asked him, her breath coming out in white puffs in the chilly air. The temperature had dropped steadily since that morning, and the clouds were now promising a fresh bought of snow.

"Nothing," he said, waving her off. "I just figured we should get back to work. I want this case out of the way, and then you can go back to socializing with your college friends. If you actually want to find out where they all moved on to, you should really just get a Facebook."

"A what?"

He laughed, and just like that, he was off the hook as she pestered him about what that meant. For now, at least, she'd forgotten his haste to leave lunch. In his pocket, he squeezed the phone number coated napkin scrap that he'd slipped out of her coat.

Today was going to get a heck of a lot more interesting pretty soon, and he wasn't looking forward to what he'd be facing once she figured it out.

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**Reviews will make me write faster. It's a proven fact :)**


	41. Chapter 41

**I know, I know, it's horribly short. But hey, it's an update! We're getting closer to some actual action, and eventually, the END. *gasp* Yeah, it has to come some time. It's weird to think about, since WSBT was the first multi-chapter fanfic I ever wrote, and this is technically still the same story continued into a sequel. It's just strange to think about it actually closing up for good. **

**But, for now, you can expect another nine chapters.**

**And after that, if you actually like me and my writing (and I have no idea why you would what with how drawn out and weird this story's plotline has gotten, not to mention my slow updating...) perhaps you'll check out the story that I'm doing on the side right now. No, it's not up on the site yet. It's a work in progress that is taking up most of my attention, and it's all angsty and mysterious and such. So if you're wondering why it takes me so long to update this story, it's because I get home from school and crank out chapters of that instead XD**

**That doesn't mean I don't love this story. So for goodness sake, stop reading this totally unnecessary and rant-like author's note and read the chapter! And then maybe leave a nice review to remind me that people actually read this, and do want me to finish writing it. No matter how long that might take...**

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"Hello?" her voice was groggy into the phone, and she could barely make out what the person on the other line was saying in her sleep-deprived state, let alone recognize who it was.

Finally it occurred to her that it was Cam, and she made the effort to roll over and check the clock. At once, she sat bolt upright, feeling alarmingly awake all of a sudden. She opened her mouth and simultaneously reached to the other side of the bed to shake Booth awake, but found that he wasn't there. Her mouth snapped shut and she stared blankly for a long moment, too tired to think about what that might mean.

"Dr. Brennan, are you there?"

"I... Yeah, yeah. Sorry, Cam. What were you..?"

The voice on the other end sighed. "Well, from _that,_ it's clear why you aren't here, but beyond that, I have some important information that I thought would be best heard from me before you arrived."

"What is it? Has there been a break in the case?"

"Yes and no," Cam said, suddenly hesitating. By now, Brennan was on her feet, stepping around a pile of laundry that she really needed to do and making her way across the darkened bedroom towards the light creeping up the hallway and through the cracks in the door.

"Well which one is it?" she questioned impatiently.

"You requested that a sweep be run through the Jeffersonian for bugs or cameras."

She froze in place, standing in the opening between the bedroom and the hallways, still holding the doorknob of the now open door.

"...And?" she dared to ask.

"Dr. Brennan, the FBI technicians found a series of wires that were used to tap into the security system. They would have... had access to any feed."

"Including my office," she whispered, the blood draining from her face. "Were they... was the feed still active?"

There was a long pause, and then, "We have no way of knowing whether or not it was in use at this point... but yes, it was still accessible to whoever first installed it."

"Bones?" At last, the only voice she really wanted to hear at that moment graced her ears, and she felt herself relax slightly into the doorframe, holding herself up as her eyes raised to find him standing by the entrance to the kitchen at the end of the hall. "Who's that? What's wrong?"

"We'll be over as soon as we can," she said into the phone, and then hung up without waiting for a response. At Booth's continuingly questioning look as she moved up the hallway towards him, she explained simply, "Cam."

He nodded, looking unconvinced and clearly having noticed that she had failed to answer the second part of his question. Right at that moment, though, she didn't feel much like talking. He barely had the chance to open his arms before she wrapped hers firmly around him and pressed her face into his chest.

"Whoa," he said in surprise, the air rushing out of him in a sudden gust. "Bones?" he repeated after he'd wrapped his arms securely around her and began to rub a hand reassuringly up and down her back.

She closed her eyes and just breathed in and out a few times, taking in his warm and familiar scent.

"They swept the lab," she said at last, when she felt her body calmed enough in his grasp.

"They found something?" he surmised at once, his shock palpable.

She simply nodded against him, and he sucked in a sharp breath, holding her closer and reaching up to cradle her head into him.

"It's going to be okay," he murmured into her hair, nuzzling his face closer to her ear to whisper directly into it. "I promise, Bones, I _promise_ I'm not going to let anything happen to you..."

She felt her cell phone buzz in her pocket, and carefully slid an arm back around to pull it out, groaning as she read the name on the display.

"Can you protect me from this?" she asked, pulling away enough to show it to him as it vibrated again.

* * *

"We really should have just gone to the lab," she muttered, tapping a foot impatiently on the carpet under their couch.

"If he keep us waiting one more minute, we're going to, believe me."

As though he'd been listening in, Sweets' head suddenly popped around the corner. "Come on in, guys."

"You had better have coffee for us," Booth warned as they stepped through the doorway and found their regular seats. Sweets pointed to the two cups on the coffee table, and then dropped into his usual chair and picked up his own mug, which read '#1 Shrink' on the side. It was the sort of thing she'd have expected Booth to give him, but seeing as she hadn't heard her partner bragging about such a thing, she was going to have to assume it was someone else in the office.

She gratefully picked up her white Styrofoam cup and tested the warmth before taking a long sip and sighing in gratification as the hot liquid shot down her throat and instantly set her at an ease that she hadn't been expecting, but was quite happy with nonetheless.

Never had she realized just how much she enjoyed a daily cup of this perfect concoction. God, she was going to enjoy having as much of it as she wanted when these forty weeks were finally over. At the same time, though, looking forward to the end meant rushing towards a whole new world of responsibility and a completely different stage of her and Booth's relationship.

"I'm very gladly the two of you could make it today," Sweets said, smiling warmly at the both of them and looking back and forth as if he was expecting an equally joyful response from one of them. When they continued to stare back stonily, his face dropped its mask and he sighed. "Alright, you clearly don't want to be here. Heck, when have you _ever_ wanted to be in my office. If you could just _try_ to show some interest in the fact that I'm trying to help you, though, that would be _great_."

"Fine, whatever. Just... ask us whatever it is you think you need to know, and we'll be all 'truth-zone' induced with you. Good enough?"

Sweets stared back at him for a few moments, and then nodded stiffly, resigning himself to the fact that this was as good as he was going to get. Brennan crossed her arms and waited for him to get started with the barrage of questions.

"I visited the Jeffersonian this morning," he said, watching them for reactions. When he got no response, either physical or audio, he sighed. "Come on guys, work with me here."

"That wasn't a question," she pointed out with raised eyebrows, staring him down with undisguised annoyance.

His eyes rolled upwards to stare at the ceiling for guidance.

"I'm not sure why I'm even going to try... but here we go. Dr. Brennan, could you please tell me how you feel about the camera's being tapped into at your lab? I know that you know. Cam told me she was calling you."

She wanted to just shrug it off, but something told her that the sooner she just answered the question, the sooner they would both get out of here.

"How would you feel if you found out someone could potentially have been watching every move you made for... who knows how long? I feel... invaded. I feel like nothing in my life was really _private_. First the apartment, then this... to be honest, this on top of everything else is really just goddamn frustrating."

Neither of the men spoke a word. Booth's mouth opened—she could see it out of the corner of her eye—but it slowly closed again when he couldn't find anything to say.

"That's... thank you," Sweets said with a surprised nod of his head. "Thank you for... being so honest. Booth, how about you?"

He looked far more hesitant, and he turned to her. She watched as he read her face, and then set his jaw, turned back to Sweets, and said, "Fine. I feel like... I don't know, I failed. I do everything I can to... protect the people I care about. And to find out that something has been going on that I've had no control over, and that it's... _hurting_ Bones..." He shook his head, running an angry hand through his hair.

"This is good... very good. Well, not _good_, but... alright, you get what I mean. I appreciate that both of you decided to share. Now, you have to understand why these things are a concern, correct?"

"Sweets, if you take us off this case because we did what you wanted for once, I promise you will regret it."

The shrink nodded in full understanding. "I get it, Booth. And I promise that I have no intention of taking you off this case. I think that what you need right now is to be able to work on it, actually. My goal, right now, is to make sure that you are fully able to do that with as few obstacles in your way as possible, unless I truly believe that the danger outweighs everything else. With all the security measures Cam has assured me are being doubled, and with neither of you being apart from each other out in public... I'm not panicked about the situation. There's always the chance that things might escalate, however. For example, our stalker has yet to make actual contact. If and when that happens, I want you to be prepared."

"If and when he shows his face, Sweets, he's not going to stand a chance."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Sweets muttered, rubbing his forehead. "If you really want to stay on this case, then you _really_ need to censor any violent comments."

Booth raised his hands in mock surrender. "I never threatened anyone with _violence_, Sweets. I simply meant that he wouldn't stand a chance of getting away. Isn't that what _you_ thought I meant, Bones?"

She quirked her lip up in a smile. "That's right. That's exactly what my first thought was."

Sweets closed his eyes for a long moment. "Anyways," he said when he finally opened them, pronouncing the word carefully and drawing out each syllable. He looked at each of them in turn, as if offering a warning, before he continued. "I was wondering if there was anything else that you two might like to share. Anything, for instance, that might have some effect on this case, albeit indirectly? Perhaps... a reason why Booth might be feeling an extra sense of protectiveness?"

She spun her head to look at Booth in confusion. He hadn't told anyone, had he? She had only told Angela, and she trusted that her friend wouldn't have gone back on her word by telling anyone else.

He looked just as confused, though, and a bit alarmed. She imagined her face was probably a pretty good mirror of his as they both turned back to the psychologist, who's eyebrows were raised as he waited for a response from either of them. Most of his focus seemed to be on her, and she knew that she was going to have to answer him. Obviously, he already knew, otherwise he wouldn't be asking such leading questions.

"I'm pregnant," she said simply, raising her head up haughtily and glaring at him as if daring him to make a comment about it.

His open mouth snapped shut, and his face flashed with surprise. Probably at the fact that she'd chosen to be so outright more than because of what she'd said.

"I... congratulations," he stammered at last.

"You didn't actually know?" Booth demanded suddenly, and Brennan turned to him in confusion before realizing that, according to Sweets' reaction, her partner was right.

"I've had a hunch for a while now... changes in behavior, different responses to stimuli, your own reactions, Booth. And, I don't mean to be offensive, Dr. Brennan, but you do appear to have gained some weight."

She glanced down at her stomach, a hand reaching up to cradle it, even though there was barely any bump visible. For someone that studied the way people thought and acted, the change in the way she walked had probably been obvious to him fairly early on.

"How long have you _suspected_ this, exactly?" she questioned. "And who have you discussed this with?"

"I can assure you that I haven't mentioned this to anyone. You have my word. And I only noticed recently... but that's probably because the both of you have been avoiding me quite a lot."

"Yes, well, in our position avoiding you seems to only have beneficial results," she pointed out. He chuckled slightly, but she couldn't really understand why.

"Of course it does," he murmured. "I'll tell you what, if the both of you agree to come back in next week—that means making an appointment at the desk before you leave today—then you can go now."

Booth raised an approving eyebrow at her, and she mimicked the gesture before the both of them stood.

"Thanks, Sweets," she said with a nod and a small smile.

"Not a problem. I would just prefer if, y'know, it started being more beneficial for you to be here than to _not_ be here. Do you, ah... know if it's a boy or a girl, yet?"

"Friday," she said, blushing slightly for no reason. "We're finding out on Friday."

Sweets grinned in an infectious sort of way, a way that only seemed to be associated with babies and families. "That's great. That's really... really great. You'll... let me know, right?"

She laughed. "Of course, Sweets. We'll let you know."

Out in the waiting room, they went to his cheerful receptionist to make their next appointment, but Booth left her there, saying that his cell phone had fallen out of his pocket and was probably sitting on the couch back in Sweets' office.

She waved him off and set up the appointment, thinking nothing of the fact that it took him a bit longer than necessary to return with the promise of lunch before they went to the lab. Anyways, it was already quite late, and she had to admit that missing breakfast meant that she was hungrier than usual for this time of the day.

* * *

**So... who else is psyched about Thursday? **


End file.
